


Bitter Seed

by T Fowler (serafina20)



Series: Unbroken Path [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 16:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 26
Words: 90,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/T%20Fowler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fallout from Rachel's abduction by the YED continues when she discovers she's pregnant. Seventh in the Unbroken Path series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Shit, shit, shit. He hated hospitals. Hated them with a fucking passion. Nothing good ever happened to his family in a hospital, and no one was allowed to point out that he and Sam had been born in one. That didn't count. Because, since then, except for being told he was married to Rachel, not one good thing had ever happened inside a hospital.

And here he was again, running up the front walkway to a hospital emergency room, Nathan nipping at his heels, because one of his family was inside the building. Rachel was inside the building because she'd fainted. Why? Dean had no idea; Sam hadn't bothered to tell him that much. Just called, said, "Rachel fainted at the store. We're going to the emergency room. Meet us there," and then fucking hung up.

The bastard had hung up. Hadn't given Dean time to ask any questions or given him any clue what, exactly, had happened. Rachel wasn't a fainter. Even after fainting that first time she'd sewed them up, she'd never done it again. Screamed, yeah. Got queasy, sure. But she didn't just faint for no reason.

So. There was a reason. A really, really bad reason.

The emergency room was the usual mess of a few injured people and a whole lot of sick people. Not one of them was his wife or his brother. Although, his brother was going to be ending up here if Dean didn't find him soon.

"Rachel Winchester," Dean said on reaching the counter. "I'm her husband. Where is she?"

The nurse clicked on the computer. "She was triaged out of emergency and into our clinic. Take a right at the end of the hall."

He nodded and went.

Nathan caught up to him. "Clinic is good," he said. "Clinic means it's not life threatening."

"Your boyfriend is a douche," was all Dean said.

"Technically, he's not my boyfriend. He…" Nathan's voice died at the look Dean shot him. He raised his hands and ducked his head. "Right, not the time."

Kid was smart. Sometimes. At least he had a sense of self-preservation, because if Dean didn't see Rachel now, someone was gonna die. And Nathan was the closest to him.

The clinic loomed ahead. Dean picked up speed, weaving through the few people wandering the hall. Pushed the door open with more force than strictly necessary. His eyes zeroed in on his brother, who was standing on the other side of the room in front of a hall. When he saw Dean, a look of relief flashed over his face, followed by a vague look of panic.

"What. Happened?" He grabbed Sam by his jacket and pushed him against the wall.

"Dean!" Nathan snapped, yanking at his sleeve.

Dean shoved him away, keeping his attention focused on his brother. "Sam, where's Rachel? What the hell happened?" He was aware he was shouting, probably drawing attention, but he didn't care.

"Calm down," Sam said in that damn soothing tone of his. 

Dean hated that tone. He wanted to take that tone, shove it down Sam's throat, then kick him in the stomach. Then punch him. Then thrust his hand down Sam's throat, pull it out again, and stomp on it. "I swear to God, Sam…"

"Rachel's okay. She's waiting for the doctor right now. Room three. It's just…"

He let Sam go and raced down the hall. Didn't need to hear the rest of what he was going to say. Sam had had the chance to tell him what was going on, and he'd chosen to dick around instead. Like, what, if he'd just told Dean over the phone, he wouldn't have come? Instead of just telling him what was wrong, Sam had drawn out Dean's worry that much longer and now Dean just… didn't want to talk to him. Not right now. Right now, all he wanted was to see Rachel.

Room three. He pushed the door open, "Rachel?"

She was sitting on an exam table, the head raised so she was sitting up, legs in front of her, covered by a paper blanket. It was gynecological table, with stirrups and stuff, but Dean ignored that for now, concentrating, instead, on his wife.

She looked pale. There were shadows under her eyes, and her eyes were red and swollen, which meant she'd been crying. Which meant something was wrong.

"What's wrong?" he asked, crossing to her.

She smiled wearily at him. Shifted, the paper gown she was wearing rustling. "Hey." She grabbed his hand. "I'm okay. I promise. Sam overreacted."

"He said you fainted."

"Well, yeah. I did. But…" She closed her eyes, face scrunching like it did when she was trying not to cry. "But apparently… apparently it's not all that uncommon to, you know. Get dizzy and maybe faint when you're." Her voice got thick. Heavy. Was barely audible when she whispered, "Pregnant."

He stared her, not understanding. Not getting it, because, dammit, he didn't want to get it. Didn't want to understand because things had changed enough this year, and he wasn't ready for anything else. And, worse, she was looking at him through those big, sad eyes, and not even the tiniest bit happy which meant…

Which meant…

"What?" he finally managed to say, voice scraping out of his throat hoarsely.

She let out a shuddery breath. "I'm pregnant, Dean." She lifted a calendar from her lap and added, "I'm just trying to figure out how pregnant."

He took a few stumbling steps toward her, like he was being pulled. "But… how? We are insanely safe. I mean, condoms and a diaphragm and spermicide … and…" He trailed off, realization dawning.

"Yeah," Rachel said. "And can you remember the last time we used any of it?"

He clenched his jaw. Shook his head. 

"I know I haven't been taking the pill. It's like any thought of birth control was wiped out of my head after…" She swallowed. "You know."

He went to the table and took her hand. "So, what? Are you… are you saying the demon wanted you to get pregnant?"

Her eyes filled with tears. "I don't know. I don't know. What would be the point, unless this baby is a demon and that's the point. I mean, do you remember why we were so paranoid about me getting pregnant?"

"We were just being safe. I mean, a kid… we're not exactly ready."

"No, I know." She wiped a tear away. "But there's being safe, and then there's using five different kinds of birth control. I mean, I really didn't want to get pregnant."

Dean sighed. "I don't know. I mean, it was always your gig, right? The… I was fine with condoms and the pill. They're pretty effective, right? You're the one who wanted all the other stuff. I went along with it."

"I know. I just can't remember why." She threaded her hands through her hair and squeezed her scalp. "It's like I’m missing something. Like… like I know the reason I didn't want to get pregnant, and the idea still sends this… this thrill of panic through me. But it's gone."

"What?" He frowned, following her train of thought. "You think the demon told you about wanting to get you pregnant? And then made you forget?"

"Maybe."

"Okay, when? When he tell you? At the cabin?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't know, I was afraid before it took me. He must have told me before."

"When?"

Rachel tore at her hair again, face twisted in something that looked like agony. "I don't know. I don't know! But it's not like I don't know, it's like it's been taken. Like my journals, like my computer." She looked up at Dean, tears rolling down her face. "I must have met him at some point, and he made me forget."

"Maybe at the hospital. When Dad made the deal, maybe you were with Dad." There was a sort of flicker in Dean's mind, like he was on the verge of remembering something, but it was snatched away before he could grasp it.

The look on Rachel's face made it seem like she was having the same problem. "I… No, I… I was with Sam."

"Rach, this thing made you forget your entire life. Maybe it can change a few hours of memory."

Her head fell back, covering her face with both hands. "Why?"

The anguished cry cut through Dean, shaking him. He didn't have an answer and he didn't have anything he could go out and kill. This was like Mom all over again, only instead of Rachel being dead, she kept getting tortured. Every time they got their lives together, this bastard came back and tore it apart and there was nothing they could do.

Dean climbed awkwardly onto the exam table and pulled Rachel to him. Didn't say anything as he stroked her hair, resting his mouth on the top of her head. Offered comfort the best way he knew how.

When her sobs had faded away to sniffles, he tilted her head back and kissed her softly. "You know, I could be the father. I mean, we could be having a baby together."

Her smile was wobbly. It didn't reach her eyes. "What are the odds of that?"

"Hey. You're the optimist in this relationship. Don't go changing the rules now." He wiped a tear away. "I'm sorry."

Rachel closed her eyes. Blew out a long, slow breath. When she opened her eyes again, she looked calm. "It's not your fault. And, Dean, this doesn't change anything. About how I feel about you. Us. This isn't your fault." She took his hand and ran her fingers over his wedding ring. "And this is still the life I want. The life I chose. And we'll deal with this. Together." A look of uncertainty crosses her face. "Right?"

"Of course." He kissed her and rested their foreheads together. He could feel her trembling, about to start crying again, and knew that now wasn't the time to ask the millions of questions he had. Like, what were they going to do? Should they keep it or try to get rid of it? What was going to happen to their life, to hunting? Where were they going to live and keep the baby, and, if the demon had gotten her pregnant, would he let them keep it?

Was Rachel going get through this? She was strong, he knew this, but the minute you added a kid into things… and it was inside her. She was going to get attached. Hell, they both were, because Dean already wanted to put his hands on her stomach and press his ear against it, see if he could hear anything. Cover her stomach with kisses and maybe whisper something against her skin. Even if the demon had done it, it was still part of Rachel in there, and it was still a baby. Part human, and the demon had possessed someone.

"Hey," he said, thought occurring. "What if it wasn't the demon? I mean, there was that guy, right? The one who got you out of the cave and took you to the cabin. What if he's the father?"

Rachel pulled away from him and leaned back against the table. "Again, what are the odds?"

"Maybe better than me being the father. He was there before the demon."

Her cheeks flushed. "So maybe he hit the target first?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's just a theory. I mean, the thing did possess a guy. He obviously needed something from him. Chose him for some reason."

Her brow furrowed.

"What?"

"Nothing." She shook her head. "No, it's… like I'm supposed to remember something. Like the answer is right there, and I'm missing it."

"Yeah. I felt that earlier." He lifted her hand and kissed it.

Someone knocked on the door and then entered. A woman walked in. She was short, with short grey hair, glasses, and a face that looked like every TV grandmother Dean seen. She made him want to trust her, and he didn't trust anyone, even little old grandmothers. 

"Hello, Mrs. Winchester," she said, looking up from the file she was holding and smiling. "I'm Doctor Stevens."

Rachel sniffed. Reached for a tissue from the box next to the exam table and wiped her nose. "Hi. This is my husband, Dean."

Dr. Stevens smiled at him and held out a hand to shake. "Nice to meet you. So." She pulled a chair over and sat. "I understand that this is a delicate and rather traumatic situation for you."

Rachel's eyes filled. "Yeah. I was, uh…" She took a shuddery breath. "I was kidnapped and, um, raped. I don't remember anything about that time." She licked her lips. "I think this was when my last period was." She handed the calendar to Dr. Stevens, indicating the date.

"Okay." She looked at it, wrote something down, then looked back up. "So, that'd put you at about thirteen weeks. Is that around the time you were abducted?"

The tears spilled over. "Yes."

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything, Mrs. Winchester," Dr. Stevens said. She got up and moved closer to Rachel, putting her hand on her arm. "Just keep taking deep breaths and try to keep calm." She pulled a tissue from the box and handed it to Rachel. "You and your husband are both young. I assume you've been having sex."

"We did the night before she left for her trip," Dean said. "And about a week after we found her."

Dr. Stevens shot him a look, eyebrow raised, but she only said, "So, its within the window. There's a possibility that you were pregnant before you were abducted."

"Not much of one," Rachel said, voice hoarse and broken. "We're very safe."

"But, still. The possibility is still there." She picked her file. "Now, thirteen weeks is later than we normally do the first exam, but there is not going get anxious about. I'm going to give you a pelvic exam, which is routine for the first prenatal exam. We'll do a normal physical exam as well, just to assess your overall health. We'll take some blood to run some routine screenings."

"You keep saying the word routine," Dean pointed out. "It's making me nervous."

Dr. Stevens smiled at him. "I'm just trying to assure you that there's nothing to worry about. I know this situation is stressful enough, and I don't want you to think that anything I'm going to do today is out of the ordinary."

That made sense, but it didn't make Dean feel any better. "She's been sleeping a lot. Like, a lot a lot. She fell asleep on computer the other day. Is that normal?"

"I always do that."

"Not at three in the afternoon."

"Yes, Mr. Winchester, that's perfectly normal. Have you had any other symptoms," she asked Rachel. "Nausea, frequent urination, sore breasts?"

Rachel blushed. "I don't know. I guess my breasts have been sore. My bras aren't fitting right lately."

Dr. Stevens wrote that down, nodding. "But that's it?"

"Pretty much. It wasn't until today that I realized I haven't had a period in a few months. And then I fainted."

"Have you felt dizzy or faint at any other time?"

Rachel shook her head. "It was more the shock."

She nodded and made another note. Then she closed the folder and looked at Rachel. "All right. Here's where we sort of deviate from routine. At thirteen weeks, we could should be able to hear the heartbeat. Also, I'd like to do an ultrasound to get a more accurate assessment of how far along you are."

"Neither of those things are dangerous, are they?" Dean asked, squeezing Rachel's hand.

"No, not dangerous. It's just that it can be very difficult to see and hear the fetus in this kind of situation. Especially if you think you might want to terminate the pregnancy."

Dean winced. Nodded and turned to look at Rachel.

Who laughed. Hysterically. Laughed and cried at the same time.

Dean leaned over her. Traced her forehead, pushing hair back. "Rachel. Rach, what's wrong?" Beyond the obvious, of course.

"I'll be back in a moment," Dr. Stevens said.

He didn't say anything. Just pulled Rachel into his arms and rocked her. Made soothing, shushing noises, not sure what else to do. Pressed kisses against her forehead and cheeks and mouth. Rubbed her back and breathed with her until she began to calm, sobs fading into sniffles, her body heavy and limp against his own.

"What's wrong, Rach?" He trailed his fingers through her hair.

"Like the demon is going to let me get an abortion," she whispered. "He won't even let me remember the conception. If I try, he'll do something to me."

He sighed. Tightened his arms around her. He was so fucking sick of living this constant fear. It choked them, made them afraid to do anything. It wasn't fair.

"Forget about that," he said. He pulled back and tilted her head to meet his eyes. "Just… if it were just you and me. And you got pregnant. What would you want to do?"

"It's a moot point."

"But if it wasn't moot," he insisted. He wiped a tear away. "Look, I know we're not exactly ready for kids. And our lives are… different. A baby doesn't exactly fit in."

She shook her head. "No. I wouldn't want to give up our lives for something, you know. Normal."

"I know." He leaned forward. Kissed her. Pressed his lips against his forehead. "But on the other hand, we're having a baby. We're a family. And I want…" To his surprise, his throat got tight. He pushed through it. "I want us to be a family, Rachel."

"You would? Do?" She blinked, a few tears sliding out. 

"Yeah. I mean, it's not something we planned, but it's here, right? So."

"But what if…"

"Rachel." He gave in to the burning desire. Reached down and rested his hand against her abdomen. "No matter who fathered it, that baby is half you. And that makes me love it. Want it." He shrugged. "If you do."

Her eyes well up again. "I… I don't know. I still feel like a kid. I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm afraid I'll do something stupid."

"Rach. You're not stupid. And I’m pretty sure every parent feels like that." His stomach gave a funny little flip at the thought of being a parent. It was more scary than anything he'd faced, but he wanted it.

"You'll be there, right?"

"You think I'd leave you alone?" He lifted her hand. Kissed her ring. "I got you into this."

She laughed. "You did not."

"No, you're right. Sam did. It's all Sam's fault. He drew up the marriage license. It's his fault."

Her laughter was rich and full. Beautiful. "I love you," she said, draping her arms over his neck.

"Yeah," he said, smiling at her. "Me too."

 

* * *

"Sam what is going on?" Nathan asked once Dean had disappeared down the hall. "You're supposed to be the sensitive one. The one who shares things. Share what's happening with my sister!"

Sam winced. Nathan was loud, and his voice reached a pitch that should only be audible to dogs.

He grabbed Nathan and dragged him out of the clinic and into the hall. There were still too many people here for Sam's taste; after everything that'd happened that day, he felt on the verge of breaking down. Of needing something--someone to cling to. To work his frustration out on. And he didn't want witnesses.

Holding Nathan tightly by the wrist, Sam pushed him into the stairwell. Shoved him against the wall.

Nathan's eyes were wide, but he didn't say anything. Just looked at Sam through dark, serious eyes, hair falling over them. He licked his bottom lip, drawing Sam's gaze.

Sam swallowed. Fought the shudder of arousal that went through him. Closed his eyes. "Rachel's pregnant."

Silence. Nathan's brow furrowed. "Pregnant?" he repeated. "Like, she and Dean are going to have a baby."

"Maybe."

"What do you mean, maybe? Either they are or… Oh, shit," he said, abruptly getting it. He closed his eyes and pulled Sam to him, resting his head against Sam's chest. "Fuck."

"Yeah." Sam twined his fingers in Nathan's hair. Rested his head on Nathan's, breathing him in. 

He'd meant what he said to Rachel before, technically Nathan wasn't his boyfriend. He wasn't sure what Nathan was, to be honest. In the three months since Nathan had joined them, the two of them had spent a lot of time making out and dry humping, but that was it. Sam had been reluctant to take it any further, unwilling to commit to something he wasn't sure of, and Nathan seemed happy to follow Sam's lead. It was disturbingly casual to someone who'd never done casual in his life. Different from the way Dean had done casual, with a different woman every night, but still… remarkably free of anything resembling a relationship. Commitment. 

It fit perfectly. Despite lingering doubts and thoughts that maybe he needed to do something, take it somewhere, declare something, or make this something… what he and Nathan had was just right.

"How's she doing?"

"Um, she's pretty shaken up," Sam said. He let a hand trail down Nathan's neck. Traced patterns against his skin. "We were at the store and it just… hit her. And she fainted from the shock. Didn't want to come here, but if she's right, she's something like three months pregnant, right? She needs to see a doctor."

Nathan sniffed. Rubbed his forehead on Sam's chest. "Have she and Dean had sex since she came back?"

His stomach clenched; he really didn't like thinking about the two of them having sex. Bad enough he'd been the one to finally force the issue between them, he didn't need to become even more involved with his brother's sex life. "You'd probably know better than me," he said. Nathan was disturbingly open about sex.

He pulled his head away. Rested it against the wall. "I think so. Remember when they ditched us at the Roadhouse?"

"That soon?"

"Rachel's always been one to jump back on the horse. Or the pogo stick."

"Nathan!" Sam pushed himself away, but Nathan pulled him back. Pulled him down and kissed him.

Sam fell into the kiss. Melted against Nathan, wrapping his arms around the other man. Kissed him hard, tilting Nathan's head back. Forcing his mouth open, plunging his tongue into Nathan's willing mouth.

This was new, too. Using physical intimacy to distract himself. It was Dean's normal shtick, but with Nathan right here…

Nathan ran his hand down Sam's spine. Tucked it underneath his waistband. Broke the kiss and rested their foreheads together. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything." Sam grabbed Nathan by the waist. Hoisted him up against the wall.

He helped Sam move him, wrapping his legs around Sam's waist and shimming up the wall. "You want to fool around in the stairwell of a hospital," he said throatily. "You're not usually like this, Mr. Private." He leaned forward and nipped at Sam's jaw. "Something is wrong."

"Since when do you care why I start something?" Sam asked before mouthing Nathan's ear.

Nathan arched his back, breath catching. "I'm not complaining." His voice was strained. "I'm just concerned. That's all."

Sam caught Nathan's earlobe in his mouth. Sucked on it delicately, teasing it with his tongue. When he released it, he rested his head against Nathan's. Forced himself to breathe. To relax.

"Sam?" Nathan stroked Sam's hair.

"This demon is involved with my family because of me. I don't know why, but before me, they were fine. And then I come along and Mom dies. Then Jess and now it's gone after Rachel and…"

"If you say it's all my fault, I'll kick you," Nathan said, cutting him off.

"But…"

"You were six months old." He pulled Sam's head back and met his gaze. "Six months. It was not your fault. You didn't call it to your crib. You didn't make a deal with it. You didn't ask for it."

"Then why was it there?"

Nathan's face softened. He looked almost… sympathetic. Like he had bad news that he didn't want to give, but didn't quite see any other way.

Sam's stomach clenched. "What?"

Slowly, Nathan unwrapped his legs. Slid down so he was standing and gently pushed Sam away. "Sam. Why do demons normally get involved in people's lives?"

He shook his head.

"Sam."

He closed his eyes, not wanting to think. Not wanting to accept what Nathan was trying to say because it was impossible. There was no way…

"No."

"Sam…"

"No!" Louder. Lust was gone, desire was gone, replaced with pure, white-hot anger.

Sam grabbed Nathan by the shirt and slammed him against the wall. "No."

Nathan didn't even flinch. "You wouldn't be this angry if you didn't know I was right. It wasn't your dad, that much is pretty obvious. But someone in your family made a deal with this thing."

"No. No one would do that."

"Sam…"

"We didn't know about demons before Mom died, Nathan. We're not like your family, so neck deep in this world that it's passed down through the generations."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "How do you know? Did you ever talk to any of your grandparents about it? Read anything they left?"

"I… I never knew my grandparents."

His other eyebrow went up and his lips pursed. Carefully, Nathan reached up and pulled Sam's hands off him. Walked around him and sat on the stairs. "Never knew your grandparents, so you don't know if what I'm saying is wrong. One set of them might have been hunters. Or, I don't know. Maybe it wasn't a deal. Maybe it was just… somehow, they ran across this thing. Messed up something for it, and it took revenge by killing your mom and doing something to you."

"Doing something to me?"

Nathan looked up. Shrugged. "I told you. You give off the same kind of energy as that thing. You're somehow connected to it. It did something to you. Just don't know what." He stood up. Went to Sam and took his hand. "But it's not your fault."

He closed his eyes. Swallowed hard. "It feels like it." He's embarrassed at how strained his voice sounds.

"But it's not. And no one is blaming you."

"Maybe they should start."

"You haven't done anything, Sam. You've never even seen this thing. You are not to blame."

He clenched his jaw. 

"Look at me, Sam." When Sam didn't open his eyes, Nathan squeezed his arm. "Look at me."

He forced his eyes open. 

Nathan smile. "It's not your fault. And it won't do any of us any good if you keep blaming yourself. Dean's gonna have enough on his plate right now without having to worry about his baby brother."

"His demon baby brother."

"You're not a demon. You're powerful. You've got a demon who wants you for something. But that doesn't make you a demon." Nathan stepped into Sam, pressing their bodies together. "I don't fool around with demons, Sam."

"No?" He gave Nathan a half smile. "And here you told me you were easy."

"Oh, I'm easy," Nathan assured him. "I just have standards." He slid his hands around Sam's waist. Rose onto his toes and bussed a kiss to Sam's mouth. 

Sam caught Nathan before he could slip back down. Deepened the kiss, taking comfort in it. Allowed himself to be grounded, centered by Nathan's reassuring words and reassuring body.

"It'll be okay," Nathan whispered, wrapping his arms around Sam's neck and pulling him down. They kissed again.

And Sam almost believed him.


	2. Chapter 2

"You gonna tell Mom and Dad?" Nathan asked. He tore a piece of his doughnut off and popped it into his mouth.

Rachel sighed and stuck a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. Dean and Sam were out dealing with the ghost they'd come take down. She and Nathan had been left behind under strict orders not to leave, not to let anyone in, and not to let anyone take them. And, by them, Dean had meant Rachel.

And the baby.

"I'm going to have to. I mean, I'm not good at keeping secrets. You're better than I am, but…" She sighed. Squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want to go home."

"Just because you tell them doesn't mean you'll have to go home." He grabbed a spoon from the tray between them. Dipped it into her ice cream.

"Right. First born, Nathan. And a girl. Mom and Dad try, but when their daughter gets pregnant with a demon baby, they're going to be pretty insistent. And then there's Grandpa."

Nathan grimaced. "Right."

Rachel ate another spoonful of ice cream. "I wanna stay with Dean."

"Well, technically, you can do that and go back home. Grandma would probably let you have the apartment back, and whenever Dean is between jobs, he could go out to Hartford."

"They're not out there enough. It'd be too much of a drive. And I'm not saying I.. I want to stay married to Dean. I want to stay with him. On the road, hunting."

"Rachel. You know you're not going to be able to."

"Don't talk to me like I’m an idiot. I know that there's going to have to be adjustments and stuff. I get that. But I can still do this. I can." She dug her spoon into the carton, glaring at it.

She heard Nathan sigh. The bed shifted as he sat up. "What did the doctor say about being pregnant? I mean, I know you have to go to the doctor a lot and stuff."

"I only have to go once a month until I'm twenty-eight weeks pregnant. After that, it's twice a month. But that's not for a long time."

"That's about two months, Rach. And you don't even have a doctor. Unless you go home."

"I don't want to go home. I'm pregnant with a demon baby. I really don't want to go where people know me. It'd be too hard to explain."

"Rachel Adams, worried about what people from high school think about her? Is the world coming to an end?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. Smashed the spoon down into the ice cream again. "Dammit, Nathan. Think about it. I'm not exactly thrilled about this. If people find out I'm pregnant, and they don't know the circumstances? They're not going to get while I’m depressed and upset. They'd probably stage some kind… intervention. Assume Dean's abusing me or I'm suicidal or something. It's better if I just, I don't know. Start somewhere else."

"But you have to have a doctor. Like, one doctor that you keep going to. You have someone in Hartford…"

"No. God, how many times do I have to say that? I want to stay out here. With Dean."

Nathan threw up his hands. "Fine. What's your plan, genius?"

She shrugged. Picked up the spoonful of ice cream she'd been mangling. Threw it back into the carton. "I guess that… I'll have to decide where to set up base. I mean, you know. Choose a doctor somewhere, and between jobs, go back there. For these fucking pre-natal exams."

"I'm sure Ellen would let you move in with them. Jo would be thrilled."

"No. I mean, I love them, but I don't want to stay at the Roadhouse. Near the end, I'll have to stay in one place, and … it's too loud and it smells like smoke and beer and…"

"Okay, that's fine." He sighed. "You know Dean's excited about the baby."

"No he's not."

"Yeah. He is. It's totally obvious in the way he keeps looking at you. At your stomach. Want to talk about pregnancy glow, he's got it. You're having a baby, and he couldn’t be happier."

Her eyes stung as tears welled in them for the billionth time that day. She was so tired of crying, but just couldn't seem to stop. She winced as she reached for a tissue, dabbing her eyes as lightly as possible. "I don't know why he's so happy. He's got to know it's not his."

"I don't think he cares as long as it's yours. I mean, you did tell me that Dean mostly cares about family, right? It's why he's not objecting to me sticking around. Just more family."

"He's not objecting to you because I told him I wanted you around. If it were up to him, he would have kicked you to the curb a long time ago for messing with his baby brother."

Nathan gave her a lascivious grin and wiggled his eyebrows. "But his baby brother loves being messed with. Doesn't Dean want to keep him happy?"

"Not if it means putting up with you." Rachel smirked at him, but the smirk fell away, replaced by more tears. 

"What is it?"

She shook her head. "I'm just… I'm afraid. Dean wants family. He think he's fine with the baby…"

"He is."

"Even if he is, what's going to happen? I mean, the demon must have some plan, something he wanted this thing for. I don't know what it wants. I don't know…" A sob tightens her throat.

Nathan scooted over on the bed. Put his arms around her and held her tightly. "Rachel?"

"I don't want to think about it," she sobbed against his shoulder. "I don't want care about it. I don't want to love it. I don't want to get attached because I really don't think it's going to let me keep it." She wiped her eyes on his shoulder. Tightened her grip on his shirt. "And I really don't want to be the one to break Dean's heart. So, please, tell me, what am I supposed to do?"

He pulled her closer. Stroked her hair and rocked her slowly. But, he didn't say anything and Rachel knew that he didn't have an answer.

* * *

It didn't happen often, but every once in awhile, a hunt went exactly the way it was supposed to. The ghost was identified, the grave was found, and nothing stopped them from digging up the grave and salting and burning the bones. This was one of those nights. Dean didn't know if it was just luck or if something was watching out for them or what. Didn't care, either. He was just glad to be done with this so he could concentrate on more important matters.

"That was fast," Sam said, slamming the trunk closed. "Easy."

"After the day we had, I think we deserve an easy one." He knew that he should jump into the car, tear back to the motel and Rachel, but something was keeping him here. 

Sam was quiet for a minute. Then he said, "Wanna get a beer?"

He nodded, grateful for his brother's intuition for once.

They jumped into the car and took off. Instead of going to a bar, they hit a liquor store. Got a six pack, then drove until they got to the motel. The parking lot in the back ran up against an empty field, so Dean pulled into the spot furthest from the motel and cut the engine. Together, they got out of the car and climbed onto the hood of the car.

Sam had his phone out, texting, as Dean cracked open his first beer.

"Just letting Nathan know where we are. You know. Just in case." He snapped the phone shut and shoved it back into his pocket.

"So, what's this bull about you two not being together? Nathan said something like that." Easier to talk about his brother's sex life than Dean's wife, even if he still wasn't totally comfortable with the gay thing. Although, it was adorable watching how turned on Rachel got the few times she'd made Dean watch gay porn, just to prove it wasn't gross.

No, scratch that. Not adorable. Fucking hot as hell.

Sam shook his head and opened his beer. "We're just… I don't know. We're just messing around."

"Just messing around?"

"And talking. He's really smart. And funny. He knows… God, there's hardly anything he doesn't know. He's a good kisser and I like being with him." He shrugged. "But it doesn't feel like anything deeper than that. " He took a drink. "We haven't slept together."

"No?"

"When I say we're just fooling around, I mean it in the most basic sense of the word. It's like we're in junior high and necking." He glanced at Dean. "It's not like you didn't take it slow with Rachel."

"Are you saying you want me to lock you and Nathan in a room together?" Dean asked dryly.

Sam laughed. "Naw. We're getting wherever we're getting just fine." He licked his lips. "I don't know. I'm happy with whatever it is he and I are doing. I mean really happy. That part of me that hasn't been happy since…" He stopped talking. Sighed.

Dean lifted his beer to his mouth. Tipped it back. "It's funny," he said after swallowing. "There's like this… space in you. Or something. I never noticed it until after I woke up thinking I was married to Rachel. I was just happy. I was content or something. Same way I felt with Cassie, but I didn't get it at the time. Being with someone you trust. That you make part of your family. It fills something in you."

"Exactly." He smiled. "You know, Dean, we're skirting dangerously close to chick flick territory."

"Well, anything to avoid reality." He sighed. Tilted his beer back, draining the can. "Sam. You think I'd be a good father?"

He heard Sam exhale and he winced, because Dean knew that he shouldn't be worried about this. He should be worried about the fact his wife was carrying a half-demon baby and figure out what that meant. If it was going to hurt her. If it was going to be evil. If Rachel was going to survive this.

That's what he should be worried about. But it was too hard to think about that right now, so he focused on the part that worried him on a different level. Just like he was still worried that he wasn't the right kind of man to be a husband. He drank and ran credit card scams and flirted with pretty waitresses in diners. Sometimes he did it in front of Rachel, because it was such a habit. She never seemed to care, not much, and she said it was because she knew that she would always come first to him. And she did.

But Dean wasn't so sure.

"Dean," Sam finally said. "You're going to make a fantastic father."

"Don't jerk me around, Sammy."

"No, I'm serious. You're surprisingly good with kids. I've seen you with them, and you manage to connect with them in a way that's just… amazing. And it's not because you have the mentality of a ten year old. You're just good with them. So, yeah, I really do think you'll be a good father." He nudged Dean with his shoulder. "You can't be any worse than Dad."

"Hey, we turned out all right."

"I know. And your kid will too."

Dean reached for another beer. "Except it's probably not my kid."

"Does that really matter?"

"Well, the father might have some problems with me raising its kid." He sighed. "It's not fair. It took our mom. Our dad. Now it's fucking with my wife. Literally."

"Dean…"

"Shut up, Sam." He took a drink, anger coursing through him. The can dented under his fist, hand shaking. "What the fuck does it want?"

"I don't…"

But Dean wasn't listening. He jumped off the car. "What do you want?" he shouted at the sky. "Why the fuck are you messing with us? Why?"

There was no answer.

"Dammit!" Dean threw his beer at the moon. Watched as it arced through the sky, beer spilling out as it spun.

Silence. Just… fucking silence.

Then a buzz.

"Nathan says they can hear you inside."

"Well, fuck."

Another buzz.

"Huh."

"What?" He turned back to his brother.

Sam was shaking his head. "He says that Rachel is trying to ignore everything that happened to her by making it all about you. And she's not convinced that the demon is going to let her keep it. And she doesn't want it."

"She doesn't want it, or she doesn't want to want it?"

"I don't know. You'll have to talk to her." He looked up at Dean. "We need help."

"Who? Who do we go to in this situation?"

"Well. Bobby has the library. It's a good place to start with research. For the rest, I don't know. Her parents. Or maybe Ellen or Missouri."

Dean winced. 

"What?"

"I'd really rather not see Missouri. She'll never let me forgive myself."

"Is there any chance of that happening, anyway?"

Dean glared at his brother. "I'm going inside. We'll leave tomorrow as soon as you can drag Nathan to the car."

"Please. Like Rachel's any better. And, don't forget. She's not supposed to drink caffeine anymore."

"Ha! Doctor said that one cup would be okay," he said as he walked backwards toward the motel. "She'll be manageable. I dare you to cut Nathan down to one cup."

"I'm not suicidal." He caught up with Dean. "So. We heading to Bobby's?"

"I don't have a better idea. We can talk about it more tomorrow. For all I know, Rachel will want to head back to her parents'."

"True." 

Dean pulled his key out of his pocket when they reached the room. Unlocked the door.

Nathan and Rachel were lying on the bed. Rachel looked like she was asleep; Nathan was watching comedy news and reading a book. He was also wearing his glasses, which he only did late at night.

Dean heard Sam's sharp intake of breath. Obviously, Nathan did, too, because he smiled a slow, lustful smile at Sam and licked his lips.

"Dude, get off my bed when you flirt with my brother," Dean grumbled. He crossed the room and sat next to Rachel. Tucked hair behind her ear. "Everything okay?"

"Depends on your definition of okay," Nathan said. He slid off the bed, taking his book with him.

"Any demons or nightmares or… I don't know. Bad stuff?"

"Nope. Just junk food and crying." Nathan leaned over Rachel and kissed her on the cheek. "Night, sis."

Rachel mumbled something. Rolled over, hand coming up to wipe the corner of her mouth.

"Night, Dean."

"Night. Later, Sam." He kept his eyes on Rachel, stroking her forehead. 

The door connecting their rooms opened and closed. A half second later, Dean heard the sound of a body being slammed against the door.

"We have got to stop getting connecting rooms," he mumbled. He leaned over and quickly unlaced his boots. Kicked them off, then stripped off his jacket and jeans.

Rachel opened her eyes as Dean climbed into bed.

"Didn't mean to wake you," he said.

"I've been awake. Sort of." She yawned. Snuggled into him. "Ghost down?"

"Yeah. It won't be bothering anyone anymore." He kissed her forehead, then lips. "How are you doing?" He let his hand slip between them. Pressed against her stomach.

She shrugged. "I'm okay. Still reeling."

"Yeah. Know what you mean." Now that he knew she was pregnant, he could feel the slightest difference. She was just a little bigger than she used to be, just a touch. Or, maybe it was his imagination and there was no change. He didn't know and didn’t particularly care.

"Dean, what are we going to do?"

He looked up. Stroked his hand up her side to her face. "I don't know. It probably wouldn't hurt to, you know. Research this. Pregnancy and demons and stuff. Even though this demon isn't like any of the others we've come up against."

"Yeah, I know." A tear fell from her bottom lash, splashing onto his thumb. "He's made me forget so much. Why couldn't he have taken this away? I'd rather just believe this was our baby."

"Me, too." He kissed her. "We could pretend."

She gave him a sad half smile. "I'm not that good at pretending." Rachel sighed and snuggled closer to him. Slung one leg over his hip and rested her head on his chest. "Don't get too attached to it, Dean. I don't want you to get hurt."

He wrapped his arms around her. Held her, stroking her hair. "I'll try not to. But seriously, Rachel, what's a demon gonna do with a baby? And besides. We're expecting it to try something. We'll do the research. We'll figure out a way to keep it."

"Why would you even want it?" Her lips trembled. Eyes brimmed with tears.

She was breaking his heart. Her eyes were so red and swollen from crying they were painful to look at. Her nose was crusty and sore looking too. And she just looked so… heartbroken.

Dean sighed. Closed his eyes and rested his forehead against her. "My whole life, I thought all there was was hunting. Me, Dad, Sammy on the road. That's all I thought I needed. Then Sam left and it was like my world was torn apart. Nothing was the same. And it got worse when Dad left. Everything my life was built on, everyone my life was built on. They just left. So, I went after them. Fought to put it back together. Got Sam. We went after Dad. But even when we got him back, it wasn't the same. Wasn't right. I thought it was because Sam and Dad kept fighting, both of them pulling in opposite directions. After the demon. But that wasn't it. And I didn't know that until Dad finally, finally, put it into words for me."

"What was it?" Rachel asked in a whisper.

"He said he wanted me to have a home." He stroked his thumb over her cheek. "Wanted Sam to go to school and me to have a home." Dean opened his eyes, pulling his head back. "I never realized I wanted any of that stuff. Not just a family, but a place. Somewhere to go after all this, after all the crap and the pain and stuff. It never occurred to me that it didn't have to be a twenty-four seven job. That sometimes, I could go home and just… rest." He offered her a tentative smile and stroked his thumb over his bottom lip. "Then there was you. And I know you're fine on the road, but Rachel. We could have a home. Together. And a kid."

Rachel raised her eyebrow. "So, I stay home and raise the kid while you go out and hunt the ghosts?"

He rolled his eyes. "We can figure out the details when we get there. But, I don't know. I never said anything before because this is the way I've always done this. Crappy motels and diner food and not having a permanent home. But there's no reason it has to be that way. Bobby's got a home. Ellen does. Why don't we?" He put his hand on her stomach again. "This is our baby, Rachel. That demon isn't getting it, you trust me on that. We're going to keep it and raise it. And we're going to love it."

"What if I can't?"

"You will. I know you will." He kissed her. "I know this isn't what we expected, but that's my whole life. You didn't think your only taste of it was gonna be learning you were married to me by a phone call, right?"

Finally, she laughed. Smiled. "No. No, you're right." She let out a slow breath. "All right. Just, you know. Give me some time to get used to this. It's growing in me, you know. I feel kind of like I've been taken hostage."

"I just think it's so cool," he admitted, giving her a grin. He slid down her body so he was under the covers. Pulled up her shirt and kissed her stomach. "I hope he has your eyes."

"Dean!" She reached down and pulled him back up. Kissed him, rolling onto her back and pulling him onto her. "Stop touching my stomach."

"I can't," he said, propping himself over her. "I'm just kind of in awe. You've got life in there."

"I'm not the first pregnant woman you've ever seen."

He kissed her neck. Up her jaw and sucked on her earlobe. "Yeah, but you're the only one I sleep with. And none of those other kids were going to be mine. This one will be."

"I may have to start slapping if you do it too much. And just you. No one else."

"You won't slap anyone else?"

She laughed. "No. No one else can touch me." She wrapped her legs around his waist. Pulled him down to rest his weight on her. 

"Well, that," he said, kissing her. "That we agree on."


	3. Chapter 3

Nathan dropped his bag on the floor with a loud groan. Took a couple of shuffling steps forward and then fell, face first, onto the bed.

"Tired?"

"Exhausted." He turned his head, resting his cheek on the bed. "Is it always so emotionally draining being around you guys? I mean… Christ."

Sam set his bag on his bed and sat, facing Nathan. "Let's see. My girlfriend was killed by a demon, brother's been almost killed by demons something like a million times, I've almost been killed, the girl who I see as a sister was almost burned alive by a kitsune that wanted her for her brains and virginity, and then she got kidnapped and impregnated by the demon that killed my mom and girlfriend. Plus, my brother was framed for murder by a shape shifter, almost drowned trying to rescue a kid from a lake ghost, and had a girlfriend almost be killed by a racist truck. I have to watch him take everyone we can't save as a personal failure and, oh yeah, I've got these nightmares and occasional visions that I don't know what to do with. And my father died. So… yes. It's always this emotionally draining." He winced at how bitter his voice was, but he couldn't help it.

Rachel had started having stomach pains Not bad or anything; she'd described them as a dull kind of ache. They didn't last long, but she kept gasping every time she moved. Plus, her head hurt and her eyes were swollen and puffy from all the crying the day before.

Rachel suffering meant Dean suffered. He'd become quiet and snappy with everyone and refused to let anyone drive.

Dean in a bad mood put Sam in a bad mood. And that made Nathan feel like he had to make everyone feel better by joking around, telling stories, and trying to get Rachel to fool around with him. Rachel had tried, but had been too tired, and Nathan had ended up pissing Dean off and been told that if he made one more peep, Dean would leave him on the side of the road. All in all, it had not been a fun car ride.

"I'm sorry," Nathan said quietly, pushing himself up to sitting. "I didn't mean to be a jerk."

Sam sighed and fell back on his bed. This was the bedroom he and Dean used to share up until Rachel had joined their lives. Twin beds separated by a nightstand, the nightlight the same as the one from Sam's childhood. A dresser, dusty with neglect. Comfortable and comforting, a familiar place to come back to when they needed it.

"I'm not angry. Not at you. I was… I don't know what happened. That just all came out wrong. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." The bed shifted as Nathan climbed onto the bed and stretched out next to him. "Everything kind of really sucks right now. I provoked you. No big."

He just let out a long breath again. Rubbed his forehead.

"You know I'm not going to… I don’t know how to say this," Nathan said. "But, uh, while we're at Bobby's, you don't have to worry about me."

"What do you mean? Worry about you?" He opened his eyes and sat up.

Nathan did the same, facing him. There was a serious expression on his face, all the laugh lines smoothed out and the mischievous twinkle in his eyes gone. "Bobby's like your surrogate father. I'm not going to embarrass you in front of him by flirting or trying to kiss you or whatever. So that's one less thing you have to have on your mind."

His brow wrinkled. Sam shook his head, trying to see if Nathan's words would make sense if he rattled them around a little. They didn't. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know Bobby that well. We were here, what? Three days last time before we got a job and took off. But it's clear that he loves you and is protective."

"And you think he's also homophobic?"

Nathan lifted a shoulder. "I wouldn't put it like that. But I bet it's not something he's comfortable with. Hunters tend to be kind of conservative when it comes to things like that, at least in my experience."

"Your experience being the Harvelles and Ash."

"I've met other hunters. Ash sends them my way when anyone's hunting in the area and needs help. They're fine with me as long as I don't accidentally flirt with any of them or any guy nearby. As long as I'm straight, it's cool."

"Bobby's not like that. And, as I wasn't impressed with the one other hunter we met, I think you should just screw it and be yourself."

Nathan gave him a sweet smile. "Ah, Sammy. I'm beginning to think you really like me."

"I do, you idiot." Sam leaned forward and kissed Nathan. Slid his hand up Nathan's arm, resting it against his neck. "I don't know exactly what we are," he said, resting his forehead against Nathan's. "But I'm not ashamed or embarrassed of you. I don't want you to change who you are or how you act. Yeah, Bobby is like a father, but I wouldn't mind you meeting my father." He couldn't help the crooked smile that crossed his face. "In fact, I think I would have liked to see what he'd make of you."

"You liked pissing him off, I take it."

"Well, yeah, but that's not why I'd introduce you to him." Well. It mostly was, but that was besides the point. He ran his fingers through Nathan's hair. "Don't worry about Bobby. He might call me an idiot. He probably will. You too. But I honestly don’t think he'll care."

"As long as we're quiet."

He laughed. "Right. Although, since it's Dean and Rachel next to us, I think it's more them we'd have to be quiet for." He kissed Nathan again, then pulled away. Took his hand. "Thanks, though. For the offer."

Nathan shrugged, giving him a lopsided smile. "I know I can be a pain. And this is all new to you, so I don't want to make it, you know. Harder than it needs to be."

"Thanks. I appreciate it." He licked his lips. "So, uh. We're moving really slow."

"We've been on the road."

"In our own room. And, uh." This was way harder than it should be. There was heat building under his collar, and he could feel heat rising to his face as well. He hoped he wasn't turning pink.

Life was so much easier when he was just straight. The words, the expectations, it was all… a lot easier. He and Jess had come together so easily; it'd been like they could read each other's mind.

This was different. He didn't know why, it just was.

Sam licked his lips again. "Um. I've been thinking that maybe we could, you know. Try some other stuff."

Nathan grinned. "I'm game for other stuff. I'm game for naked other stuff." He climbed onto Sam's lap and put his arms around his neck. "We don't have to go so slow. We can speed things up as much as you want." He kissed Sam, then pulled away. "Um. Just." 

"Just what?" Sam said when Nathan didn't continue.

He sighed. "It's just that, well. School is starting up again in a few weeks. And, um. I might have to leave."

The punched-in-the-gut feeling was unexpected. The hollow feeling in his stomach, the kind of lightness as he disconnected from his body at the thought of Nathan leaving.

They hadn't slept together. Sam hadn't even been naked with him. But they'd gotten close in the past few months. He was probably the best male friend Sam had ever had outside of Dean, and he filled that need for companionship left by Jessica's death. And that was just on a platonic level.

Just having him around made Sam feel less lonely. Since Rachel had joined him and Dean, Sam usually slept in a separate room from the them. One his own, after spending a lifetime sleeping in the same room as his family, sleeping on his own was not as fun as he'd always imagined. Having Nathan in the same room was comforting. It helped him sleep, listening to Nathan breathe in the night. Knowing there was somewhere there in case something happened.

But Sam couldn't ask Nathan to give up his master's degree just because he helped Sam sleep better at night. And if all they were doing was fooling around…

Sam dropped his hands from Nathan's waist and rubbed his face. "Where do you stay during the school year?"

"I have an apartment off campus." He looked up at Sam and gave a smile that was little more than a twist of his lips. "I'd be willing to offer it out as a home base for all of us. I mean, you know. Rachel could stay with me, and you and Dean hang out between jobs."

"In New Jersey? I don't know."

Nathan rolled his eyes and laughed, which Sam had intended with his overly doubtful tone. "Despite the reputation, it's not that bad. And Princeton is nice. " He bit his bottom lip. Trailed his fingers up Sam's arm. "I don't have go, you know. I mean, I could take time off. Hang with you guys. If you wanted."

Yes. He did. He really, really did. Not for Rachel, although she probably would be happy if her brother stuck around, but for him. Who had no claim on Nathan but that of a friend.

He reached up and ran his fingers over the hair above Nathan's ear. "You don't take time off of an ivy league school, Nathan."

"Not even when your sister gets knocked up by a demon and you meet possibly the greatest guy in the world?"

His face warmed again. "I don't know. I mean, you should probably take that up with Rachel, you know?"

Nathan shifted on Sam's lap, moving closer. "What about the guy? What does he want?"

Million dollar question. The Adamses were great at diving right in to the tough ones.

And the Winchesters were good at avoiding them. 

"I think the guy is… is too mixed up right now to ask anyone, even the great guy he's found, to give up on something so big."

Nathan nodded. He looked sad, but like he'd been expecting it. "So. Where does that leave us?"

"I don't know." He shook his head, the hollow feeling spreading. His throat ached like he'd been screaming, and he didn't know why. Didn't get it.

Nathan smiled sadly. He ran his fingers through Sam's hair, then kissed him. Deeply. "Well, we still have a few weeks. And lots of time until then." He pushed Sam flat on the bed. Pulled his shirt off, then draped himself over Sam. "What do you say we make good use of that time?"

He pushed the melancholy from realizing Nathan was going to leave away. Grinned up into Nathan's mischievous face. "Well. You are the genius." He pulled Nathan down into a kiss. Whispered against his mouth, "I say we do what you say."

 

* * *

"So, this book says that demon pregnancies are fast," Dean said, pointing to the sentence he just read. He looked up at Rachel, who was sitting cross legged on the couch, surrounded by books. 

She had on open and perched on her left knee while she scribbled into the notebook on her right. When Dean spoke, she raised her hand at him, finished writing in her notebook, then looked up. "Huh?"

He raised the book. "Demonic pregnancies are fast. Like, days, maybe a few months. But if you're thirteen weeks, that's slow. So, maybe it's not a demon."

Before Rachel could say anything, Bobby walked over and snatched the book from Dean. He scanned it, then shook his head. "This is in cases when the demon impregnates the woman itself. Either through possession of her body or by…" He stopped and cleared his throat.

Rachel smiled wanly. "By entering the womb and possessing the egg, so the woman gives birth to the demon itself, in human form. And it's really rare. This is a half human baby. I think. Because he possessed another human. It possessed another human." She smiled sadly and shrugged. "Sorry, Dean."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"I know you keep hoping that, somehow, it'll be yours, but it's not." She closed the book and pushed it off her knee. "I don't even know why we're looking. We're not going to find anything that'll be of assistance. Your dad took, what? Twenty something years to figure out what this demon was. We're not going to do it in nine months. And if it was too powerful for holy water to affect it, then the chance that anything we find in these books on demon pregnancy being applicable is dubious."

Great. She was pulling out all her fancy college words, which meant she was near tears. And exhausted. There were two stages of exhaustion with Rachel: fancy college words and unfinished sentences. If she went to bed in the first stage, she was usually okay. If she waited until she was too tired to talk, she usually took forever to finally fall asleep and then had nightmares.

Dean closed his book and looked at Bobby. 

Bobby shrugged and tilted his head in a way that said that he thought she was right. 

She probably was. 

"Okay. How about this? Why don't you go take a nap, and me and Sam will start looking for new jobs or something?"

"Sam and Nathan are having sex right now."

"Oh for Christ's sake," Bobby muttered. "I'm going out for a beer." He stomped out of the room.

"What…" Dean blinked and shook his head, not needing the images that flashed in front of his head at her words. Not that he was thinking of his brother having sex. But, well, Nathan was barely 5'8" and there was a part of him that couldn't help trying to figure out how that would work.

At the same time, they'd been fooling around for months now. Not only had he'd had time before to figure it out (not that he ever had), but why would them doing whatever they've been doing now mean he and Sam couldn't look for jobs?

"So? They can stop. We've got more important things to do."

Rachel opened her eyes and sat up. "No, they are having sex. Naked sex. And how the fuck do I know that?" Her hands went to her head and she pressed against it.

Oh, good. Something new.

"What's wrong?" He got up and went over to her. Pushed the sea of books off the couch and onto the floor so he could sit next to her.

She shook her head. "I don't know. It's not wrong. It's just…it's like I can feel them. No. Sam. I can feel him from down here, and I can tell he's… excited." Her cheeks flushed. "I mean, I can't… I can just feel him. I can't explain it." Her lower lip trembled and her teary eyes met Dean's. "What's happening, Dean?"

He pulled her to him. Kissed the top of her head. "Babe, you're exhausted."

"No I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. We had a long drive, you're pregnant, and you didn't eat much at lunch. So, maybe you only think you've feeling Sam or whatever."

"But I can."

He didn't even quite understand what she meant. He assumed it was like Nathan and him being empathic, being able to sense spells or when ghosts were near or whatever. Like a human EMF reader.

But if he asked her to explain right now, she'd just pull out the million dollar words and start leaving off half her sentences, leaving him hopelessly confused. So, instead, he wrapped his arms around her and laid down on the couch. "I'm tired."

"You are not. You just think I'm tired."

"No, I know you're tired. I just happen to be tired, too."

"Dean!"

"Rach," he parroted back. "Look. The doctor said that you should listen to your body and whatever. Rest when you're tired and stuff."

She was silent a moment. Then she whispered, "I don't want to. I don't want to have this thing."

His heart twisted at the plaintive tone. At the tears he could feel dampening his shirt as they slid from her eyes.

This sucked. They hadn't even gotten around to talking about kids yet. Hadn't gotten past the newness of having someone there every night. Of having someone.

Fucking Goddamn demon. Dean was going to make it suffer when they finally tracked it down again.

He didn't know what to say, so he just kept his mouth shut. And she didn't move from his arms. In fact, she relaxed into them, her body getting heavy against his. The last thing Dean heard before he slipped into sleep was a soft snore from her.

* * *

She was at the cabin. She found herself her quite often now. It wasn't always bad. The demon never came, and it was beautiful here. Peaceful. Something good happened here before the demon hurt her, she knew that.

She just wished she could remember it.

With a sigh, Rachel sat on the front steps and put her arms around her knees. Gazed out at the trees, listened to the wind rustling the leaves. Tried to let the tight knot of anxiety inside her loosen and fade away. Will away the tears that were constantly behind her eyes, giving her a headache that wouldn't go away.

The wind shifted. Turned cold.

Rachel stiffened. Squeezed her eyes shut. "Wake up," she whispered. "Wake up, wake up, wake up."

An arm slipped around her shoulders. Pulled her roughly against a body. "Hello, Princess."

She let out an involuntary whimper.

"Oh, relax. I ain't gonna hurt you." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm just here to see how our little bundle of joy is doing."

Rachel swallowed back a sob. Forced herself to look at him. "What are you doing in John's body?"

He smiled. "I figured it bug you. Is it working?"

She tensed her jaw and didn't answer.

"Ah, you're cute when you're angry." He leaned down like he was going to kiss her, and for a moment Rachel had a dizzying sense of déjà-vu.

She pulled back before their mouths came together. "Why did you do this to me?"

"I told you before, this is how demons like me reproduce. We use a human host."

"When did you tell me that?" she asked, frowning.

"Oh, well, I made you forget it. But that doesn't matter. So, that's why."

"Why me?"

"Ain't got nothing to do with you, darling. I just love making the Winchesters squirm. Plus, it served a higher purpose. At least we hope it will."

Rachel was about to ask another question when she heard someone shouting. She pulled away, looking up.

"Leaving so soon? Ah, well. I'll be around, Princess." The demon put his hand on her stomach and caressed. "You take care of this little thing, got that? You try anything, and I'll take you faster than you can blink. Understand?"

His yellow eyes burned into hers.

Rachel nodded.

"Good. Wake up."

Rachel opened her eyes. She was in Bobby's study, stretched out on the couch, covered in an old, worn, comfy blanket. Dean was gone.

And there was shouting upstairs.

"I didn't do anything! He just keeled over!" she heard Nathan shout, sounding panicked.

"Yeah, right, you didn't do anything, you twisted little pervert!"

Rachel threw the blanket off and shot off the couch. She was up the stairs and in Sam and Nathan's room in a heartbeat.

"What is going on?" she demanded, taking in the scene.

Nathan was naked and wrapped in a sheet, trying to struggle into his jeans without dropping it. Dean was looming over him, fists clenched while Sam, thankfully dressed in boxers and a shirt, was on all fours in the middle of the bed, grimacing in pain.

"Your brother did something to Sam," Dean said.

"Oh, he did not, you overprotective freak." She went to the bed and climbed on, ignoring the smell of sweat and semen. "Sam, honey? You having a vision?" she asked, putting her hand on his neck.

"Oh shit," she heard Dean mutter.

"Yeah," Sam bit out. "This man's gonna blow his head off. Kill someone and then himself." He gasped and twisted his face tighter.

"Sam, you have got to stop fighting this. Here." She tugged him down and pulled him to her, resting his head in the crook of his neck. "Will someone get some water and a rag for him? And some aspirin?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Nathan, still struggling with his clothes, leave.

Dean sat on the bed next to them. "You sure about this? It wasn't just a dream?"

"Dude, I wasn't even asleep." Sam pulled away from her and stretched out on the bed, flinging his arm over his eyes. "It was a premonition. This is gonna happen, and we need to stop it."

"Okay. So where's it going down?"

"Don't know."

Nathan, now wearing jeans, came back in with water and a rag. "You okay, Sam?"

Sam sat up. He gave Nathan a smile that was clearly meant for just the two of them, full of affection and something Rachel couldn't quite name.

"Yeah, Nathan. I'm okay. Sorry to freak you out."

He shrugged. "Ah, don't worry about it. I'll get you back."

Sam took the water and drained half the glass. Rubbed his forehead. "I didn't see where it was happening, but I saw… I saw a bus line. A logo."

"Did you see a name?" Rachel asked as Nathan grabbed his laptop from his duffle.

"Um… Blue Ridge, I think. I don't know." He rubbed his eyes. 

"Why are we worried about this?" Dean asked. "I mean, a guy blowing off his head ain't exactly our kind of deal. Why can't you just call a suicide hotline and then we can just… hang here for a little?" He put his hand on Rachel's back and rubbed her back.

"Dean, it might have something to do with the demon." His eyes cut to Rachel, then quickly back to Dean. "I mean, my visions always do."

"Yeah, but…" Dean didn't finish his sentence. Just sighed and scratched his nails lightly across Rachel's back.

"Okay, Blue Ridge," Nathan said. "Um, this it?" He scooted next to Sam and showed him the image on the screen.

Sam squinted at it, then nodded. "Yeah. That's it."

"So, Guthrie, Oklahoma."

"Check for demonic signs there." He winced.

Rachel got up and left the room. She had a full bottle of aspirin in her bag, something which Nathan had forgotten to bring. When she got back to Sam and Nathan's room, Sam was asking Nathan to look up any fires in 1983 in Guthrie.

"Here." She handed the aspirin to Sam and sank back on the bed, leaning against Dean.

"Feel any better?" Dean asked, putting his arm around her.

She shook her head. "Not really. I dreamwalked to the cabin, and the demon met me there."

Dean stiffened. "What?"

"I know. The demon visits me and Sam has a vision. I wonder if they're connected."

"What were you doing dreamwalking?"

"I didn't do it on purpose. I don't do it on purpose." She pulled away from him. "He was just trying to rile me up. That's it. It was no big."

Dean opened his mouth, then shut it angrily. Shook his head. "We are so talking about this later."

Rachel sighed. "Goody." She tilted her head. "Dean, like it or not, that demon probably has a full access pass to my head and my dreams right now. I mean, look." She pulled up the right side of her shirt. Pointed to her hip.

Where there used to be unmarked skin was now an illegible scrawl. Only it wasn't like a tattoo; it was carved into her flesh.

"This what you were moaning about on the ride over?" Dean asked, his voice trembling despite the tightly controlled expression on his face. He reached out and brushed his fingers over the skin.

She shook her head. "I found it this morning. I think the pain was from my stomach growing. I'm sure if I looked it up, that would be normal. This just… appeared."

The bed shifted as Sam crawled over. He stretched out on his stomach and brought his nose so close, it practically brushed the brand.

"Dude," Dean snapped.

Rachel quieted him by rubbing his arm. "Do you recognize it?"

Sam squinted, then shook his head. "I can barely read it. It's like… purposely sloppy or something." He looked up at her. "If we could read it, we could probably identify the demon from it."

"And he doesn't want that," Rachel said. She rubbed the brand, then shook her head. "Don't suppose we could get a rubbing off of it."

"Doubt it." Sam sat up. Kissed her on the temple. "Wish I could be more help."

"Yeah, so do I." She smiled, though, taking any sting from the words.

Nathan cleared his throat. "Um, Sam? Found it. Andrew Gallagher. Born in '83, mom died in a nursery fire six months later. He lives in Guthrie." 

Sam let out a long, slow breath. "Okay. So. Let's go."

"Wait," Dean protested. "Aren't we rushing things just a bit? I mean, come on. You really think the demon killed his mother?"

"Yeah, Dean. I do. My visions are about the other kids the demons visited, like Max Miller."

Dean's jaw clenched. "But Max Miller was a pasty little psycho."

"The point," Sam said loudly, "is that he was killing people, and I had visions about it. The same thing could be happening with this Gallagher." He climbed off the bed. Grabbed his duffel. "Come on."

Dean looked at Rachel.

She gazed back at him. Sighed, then shook her head. "You should go. Follow up on his visions. I mean, he's probably right. The fire, the premonitions. It points to the demon. You should go."

"You staying here?" he asked, because they were beginning to get pretty good at reading each other's minds by now.

"If Bobby doesn't mind. I need to sleep, Dean. For years, if possible. And maybe Bobby knows a doctor who isn't unfamiliar with the Supernatural. And he has tons of books, so I can look into stopping me from dreamwalking."

Dean nodded, pursed his lips, then said, "You know who else probably has all those things? Your folks."

"Too far away."

"It's a quick plane ride, and you're not afraid of planes."

"Dean!" She got to her knees and kissed him. Rested her forehead against his. "You and Sam and Nathan go check this out. I'll be fine here. And, if Bobby doesn't want me, I'll drive down the Roadhouse."

His arms slid around her. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"You won't," Nathan said. "I'll stay with her."

She gave her brother a grateful smile. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Dean looked like he was in pain. He ran his fingers through her hair, breaking tangles along the way. "You sure you'll be all right?"

"I'll be fine. Bobby's place is safe."

He nodded. "And you'll call."

"You will, too."

"Yeah." He sighed. Kissed her, then looked at Sam. "All right," he said. "Let's go to Guthrie."


	4. Chapter 4

Bobby's library was a research geek's wet dream. Seriously. Nathan had almost come on the stop when he'd seen it, and that was before he'd gotten Sam upstairs. Books on books on books covering every topic imaginable: demons, languages, spells, witches, angels, traps, herbs, and more. Anything you could think of, there was a book on it.

It was enough to make him weep. The database Rachel was compiling had long since turned into a group effort with him, Rachel, and Ash working on adding information and working out the bugs. Well. Rachel and Nathan added information and wrote the basic program while Ash worked through the bugs. And between their parents' library and their grandfather's, they'd had a pretty extensive base to start out with.

Adding Bobby's library would give them the largest and most complete database on the supernatural ever. It would help not only the Winchesters but any other hunter who needed help and information.

Nathan wondered if there was an office supply store or something nearby. He needed a scanner. 

There were heavy steps on the stairs behind him. They stomped into the room. "What in hell is your damn fool sister doing?" Bobby growled.

He turned with a sigh. "She's cleaning. When she gets stressed, she starts to clean. Notice the starts because that's important. She rarely finishes."

"What?"

"It's a weird quirk. She always starts in the kitchen, gets through all the dishes, the counters, scours the sink, then she starts on rearranging the cupboards when she suddenly has a brain burst and moves on to something else. It's a side effect of us not having regular chores as kids."

Bobby gave him a look that made Nathan think that maybe he should check and make sure he hadn't grown another head. "So, did those boys manage to find the only two people crazier than they are and bring them here?"

Nathan thought about it a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I think so." He turned back to the bookshelf. "You don't have a scanner, do you?"

"A what now?"

"A scanner? It's like a printer, only instead of printing out stuff, it takes pages and puts them into the computer."

He shook his head. "I have a fax machine."

"Naw, that's not what I need." He reached out and stroked the books. "I'd like to add these books to Rachel's computer database, but in order to do that, I need a scanner. Is there an office supply store or something in town?"

"We gotta Walmart."

"That'll work."

"Nathan, I told you I'm not scanning anything into the program. Everything gets entered by hand," Rachel said, coming into the study. She still had rubber gloves on and was wiping them on her shirt.

"And I said that entering by hand is way too slow. Scanning is faster."

"I'm not trying to make an online library, just a searchable database of facts. Not entire pages."

He grinned. "I think you're just afraid of releasing a demon on the internet."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid. Only an idiot would scan something without reading what it is first. And Jenny Calendar wasn't an idiot. None of them were. That was such a stupid episode! God Joss Whedon pisses me off sometimes!"

"Hey, hey," Nathan said. "Don't diss Joss. Joss is God."

"Joss is not God. Did you see the mess that Angel became? I mean…"

"What the hell are you two blathering on about?" Bobby interrupted at a shout.

Nathan jumped, startled. He'd forgotten that Bobby was there. "Uh, it's not important."

"It's really not," Rachel said. "Look, Bobby, have you ever heard of a demon that needs humans to reproduce?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, the demon told me that his kind of demon reproduced by getting a human to incubate their offspring. I've never heard that before, and I was thinking that maybe we could use it as a way to figure out what the hell this thing is."

Bobby frowned and cocked his head. "I don't know a whole lotta about demons in the first place. I know the basics. Holy water, crosses, name of God, that sort of thing. But how they reproduce and that stuff?" He shook his head. "But I have books."

Rachel nodded. Looked at the books. "So. I guess what we need to do is start researching demons. See if there are hierarchies or something, like how angels have choirs. Maybe demons have…"

"Ska bands," Nathan suggested.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Dean said that holy water didn't work on this demon. That it was too powerful. So, maybe different things affect different depending how old they are. Or how powerful. Or maybe there are different orders of demons, different species or whatever. So. We look. See if there are demons listed anywhere or just… about them." She let out a long sigh and sat heavily on the couch.

Both Bobby and Nathan took a step towards her. 

"You okay?" Nathan asked.

"Want me to get you anything, sweetheart?" Bobby's voice was much gentler than before. Soft. Concerned.

Nathan watched as Rachel's jaw tightened. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she plastered a smile on her face. "I’m fine. Just frustrated. I mean, we're talking about going through the entire canon on demons, everything that's ever been written, just to find one. Which is ridiculous. And won't work." She sighed again leaned forward, elbows on her knees, head in her hands. "Someone must know who did this and why."

Nathan sat. "You don't think it was telling the truth? That it's just about reproduction?"

"Why would a demon have to use a human to reproduce? It doesn't make any sense. I mean, demons are black clouds of smoke outside a human host. They existed before humans were around. How did they reproduce back then? Unless it's making a half-demon baby, that doesn't make sense."

"Didn't the demon tell you not to try and figure all this out? That it'd take you away again?"

"That was before I knew that it got me pregnant," Rachel said, lifting her head. Her eyes were crimson. "Now, all bets are off. I want to find this sonofabitch."

Nathan sighed. Glanced at Bobby, then looked back at his sister. "Then, uh. Why don't you do a DNA test and see who the father of the baby is? Sperm donor," he correctly quickly, then winced, because that sounded worse. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "The demon possessed someone. Do a DNA test and see who it was. Maybe he knows something."

Rachel shook her head. "I don't think you can just do a random DNA test like that. I think you have to have a sample from the possible father to get a match."

"Not if you run a rape report."

"I never reported it."

"You can do it now. But, you know, quiet like. Off the records, so they don't arrest the man who was possessed," Bobby said. "I got a few friends at the police station who owe me a favor or two. We can say that you didn't want to know before, but now that you're pregnant, you think it might be better. For the baby, or whatever," he added uncomfortably.

Rachel nodded, wiping tears. "What if he's dead?"

"Then we cross that bridge when we come to it," Bobby answered. 

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "What if he doesn't remember? What if he's a horrible person? What if he's married and has kids and…"

"What if chocolate tasted like vanilla and vanilla tasted like strawberry?" Nathan interrupted. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Don't do this to yourself. Don't think that far ahead. Just think about finding a doctor and getting the DNA test run. Don't worry about the results. Not yet."

She nodded. Licked her lips. "Okay. Okay." She looked up at Bobby and gave him a tentative smile. "Don’t suppose you know any gynecologist friends in town or anything?"

He didn't blush, but Bobby still managed to look distinctly uncomfortable as he shook his head. "Sorry, sweetheart. Can't help you there."

"I'll look online." She stood up, picking up the rubber gloves. "And I'll finish cleaning the kitchen later."

"No problem." After Rachel wandered out of the library, Bobby fixed a glare on Nathan. "I’m going outside to work. Don't mess anything up."

Nathan threw him a lazy salute. "I make no promises."

"Idjit," he grumbled, leaving.

Nathan lay his head on the back of the couch. Counted slowly to sixty three times before he got up. Slipping off his shoes, he quietly went upstairs and went into the room he and Sam were sharing.

When Rachel had told him the demon threatened to take her again if she kept trying to remember what happened at the cabin three months before, Nathan had stopped trying to decipher the code she'd left in the romance book. It'd been bad enough having her gone the first time; there was no way he was risking her life to satisfy anyone's curiosity.

But, like she'd said, the game had changed. She wanted to know now and damn the consequences.

He just hoped it would be worth it.

The book was in his backpack. He pulled it out and went to his computer, opening the file he'd started before.

As far as he could tell, Rachel had intended to use Ottendorf cipher, choosing words and sometimes letters scattered throughout the book to deliver her message. Luckily, instead of just leaving a page with the page-line-word directions, she'd gone so far as to put lines under words and dots under the letters she'd wanted. It looked like there had been a page with the key to decipher the code originally, but it'd been torn out and she hadn't pressed hard enough to leave an impression on the cover behind.

So, Nathan was left with a jumble of words and letters that he had to find and put together in a coherent way. So far he had back, wants, not, with, j, n, d, e, n, h, and o. So, he had work to do. With Sam gone and Rachel now looking for a doctor, it looked like he had time. 

He took a deep breath, opened A Dark Night, and got to searching.

* * *

Dean and Sam had been parked in the street, waiting for Andy to come back to his sweet-ass van for nearly an hour when Sam's phone rang. Dean grimaced, figuring it was Nathan. Not that he minded the kid—much—but he was loud. And he liked to talk dirty. It was bad enough they had to share a bedroom wall most of the time; he was not going to sit in the car next to his brother while he had phone sex with his perverted boyfriend.

"Tell Nathan if he starts talking dirty, I'll castrate him next time I see him," Dean said through a mouthful of hamburger.

Sam smirked and answered the phone, putting it on speaker. "Hello?"

"Tell Dean to keep his damn phone charged!" Rachel's voice, clearly stressed, rang through the speakers.

He winced. Pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked; sure enough, the battery was dead. "Damn it," he swore. He tossed it on the seat beside him and grabbed Sam's phone. "Hey, Rach. Sorry about that." Giving Sam a pointed look, he took it off speaker and put it to his ear. Then he made a turnaround signal to Sam with his finger, who rolled his eyes and continued to stare out the window.

"Don't worry. I'm not really angry. Just as long as I'm able to get hold of you."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." 

He waited, not saying anything. Held his breath until she sighed, the signal that she would now tell him what was wrong.

"I'm thinking of getting a DNA test done on the… the baby."

She was still saying the word like it left a bad taste in her mouth. Every time she said it, it made something twist in his chest. She was hurting and there was nothing he could do to stop it. And that sucked. It made him want to hurt something, but the one thing he wanted to hurt was keeping out of his way.

But, rest assured, Dean would kill the sonofabitch that had done this to his family. He didn't care if it was slow and painful or fucking fast. He just knew it was going to die by his hands.

He let out a long breath. "Why now? I thought you said you didn't think I was the father."

"I know. But, uh… Maybe if we find out who the demon possessed, we can find out more information about it. Like, what it is and what it wants. You know?"

"That's… actually a pretty good idea. You want me there?"

"Well, how long do you think you're going to be gone? I think I found a doctor, and he said he can get me in at the end of the week."

"I don't know, babe. I mean, we found the guy, right? Andy. And he's obviously got something going on. Like mind control. Dude just walked up to me and asked for my car. And I gave it to him."

She started laughing. "You what? Did you get it back."

He scowled. "Yeah."

She laughed harder.

"Shut up. He used his mind mojo on me, I didn't want to do it."

"You're saying he's got Force powers."

"Yeah, yeah, he's a regular Obi-wan Kenobi," he groused. "Anyway, he took my car while Sam was following doctor. The one who was going to kill himself."

"Did Sam stop it?"

"Well, he stopped the shooting, but then the guy walked in front of a bus."

Rachel made a noise in her throat. "This guy Andy sounds like an asshole. What are you going to do?"

Dean cut his eyes over to his brother. "You know, I don't know yet. But, here's the thing, Rach. I don't think this Andy is our guy."

"Dean. He took your car."

"Yeah, and he gave it back."

"That does not make him a good guy," Sam said, tearing his eyes away from the paperwork they'd gotten on Dr. Jennings.

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled the phone away from his ear, putting it back on speaker. "Rach, the guy lives out of his van. His totally tricked out van, but still. He smokes pot and he reads all those geeky philosophers that you and Sam drool over. And it looks like he can get any girl he wants. He seems pretty happy. What?" he snapped at Sam, who was making frantic cut it signals, all wide eyed and intense.

Sam put his hands up and looked away. He looked almost sympathetic, but kind of like he thought Dean was a gigantic ass who had something coming to him.

"So, let me get this straight," Rachel said, and her voice was kind of icy, but thick, too. Teary. "He has mind control and can make anyone do whatever he wants them to. And they don't have a choice. And he's using it to make girls sleep with him."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Well, we don't know that he's using his powers on girls," he said lamely.

"Dude, leave me out of it," Sam muttered, face covered by his shaggy hair.

"Don't be stupid, Dean."

"I'm not. I’m just…"

"Hey!"

Dean almost jumped a mile out of his seat, nearly dropping the phone. The last thing he'd expected was Andy to make an appearance at his car. He was getting sloppy.

"You think I haven't seen you two? Why are you following me?"

"Is that the rapist?" Rachel asked.

Dean plastered a fake smile onto his face. Took Rachel off speaker and lifted the phone to his ear. "Um, I need to go." 

"Okay, just… I trust your judgment, Dean, but don't get too enthralled by his laid back lifestyle and freedom and overlook anything else."

"You think I'm jealous of him?"

"I think that you never thought that getting involved with me would mean you had to raise a demon's baby."

"Rachel…"

"Tell the truth!" Andy shouted.

That same feeling that Dean had gotten when Andy had asked for the car rose in him. This heavy pressure in his brain, tickling in the very nape of his neck, that told him that he had to do whatever the other man said. Had to, wanted to, couldn't stop.

"I'm afraid I’m going to have to kill the baby!" Dean blurted out, unable to stop himself. "You were raped by a demon. The same demon that killed my parents, and I don't know how to deal with that. I don't know what the hell I’m suppose to think, and I don't want to think about it. I mean, you're my girl, but what if it did something to you? Besides getting you pregnant, I mean? You said you could sense Sam and Nathan the other day. What the hell does that mean? Are you going to turn evil? Are you going to get powers, like Sam?"

He took a deep breath, trying to stem the flow of words, but they kept spewing out. "And what about the baby? I mean, let's pretend it's not basically evil for one second, is it going to look normal? Or is it gonna have horns and hooves a tail and is it going to rip you apart or will you be fine? And what about the guy, anyway? Was he in on it or just possessed and does he have any stake in it and what's going to happen? I hate this Rachel, and I don't want to think about it, but I keep wondering, you know? Like, if we hadn't hooked up, would I still be picking up women every night? Because I don't actually miss that like I thought I would, and, Christ, I never thought about having kids and now I’m pissed off all the fucking time because I'm afraid now you won't want kids because of this demon that seems like it's out to ruin my life!" He slapped his hand over his mouth, finally able to stop.

Dead silence. 

He risked a peek at his brother.

Sam was looking at him, wide-eyed. Beyond him was Andy, who looked at Dean like one would a raving lunatic.

Dean dropped his hand. "Shit."

He heard Rachel take a breath. "Dean…"

And he hung up on her.

Silence again. Dean felt like he did after being sick: kind of sweaty and shaky. The phrase word vomit floated into his brain, and he was ashamed to realize he even knew what movie it came from, but it was a spot on description.

"Dude. Who are you guys?" Andy asked.

And, here we go again.

"I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam. We hunt demons. Demons, spirits—things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. Kind of like this."

"Dean, shut up," Sam hissed.

"Believe me," he said, getting out a moan of distress. "I really wish I could."


	5. Chapter 5

_"You feeling any better?"_

_Rachel looked up through her hair._

_He was standing in the doorway, looking exhausted. But she'd never seen him not look exhausted. It was different now, though. Not just soul deep; it's always been. Now, it was carved into his bones, etched into his organs. The exhaustion and sorrow permeated the very fiber of his being._

_It made her want to do whatever she could to take it away. And that, she knew, is what the demon was counting on._

_"A little. I'm feel mildly more human." She pushed her wet hair back so it wasn't in her face. "Think I'll have to chop my hair off, though. Between the troll and the cave, I think it's hopelessly knotted."_

_"Don't. Dean will kill me." A dry little smile crossed his face._

_She rolled her eyes._

_"Here, let me help." He came across the room and sat behind her on the bed. "Haven't done this in years, but I'm sure I'll remember how." He took the comb from her hand._

_Her heart started to pound as he delicately pulled hair off her neck. The comb teased through the ends of her hair, working out knots. Break through the mess._

_Rachel swallowed. Her breath felt very loud in her ears. It echoed and made her feel hyperaware of everything. Of the warmth at her back. His fingers brushing against her neck. The sound of him breathing._

_And the bed beneath them._

_She swallowed again and licked her lips. "So. How is this going to work?"_

_He stopped moving, still holding her hair. A long moment passed before he said, "I don't know. I don't know how. Don't if I can do this."_

_"Do you have a choice?"_ Do we have a choice? _she added silently._

_"Yeah, I do. Problem is, if I say no, he'll just take control and do it anyway. I don't want that, either."_

_She shook her head._

_He sighed. Released her hair and rested his head on hers. "God, I don't know what to do, little girl. All I know is that I couldn’t let you die." He wrapped his arms around her and held her close._

_Rachel put her arms on top of his. Leaned back against him. Closed her eyes. "We'll figure it out. I know we will."_

_He didn't say anything. Just held her tighter and breathed._

Rachel opened her eyes. There were tears in them. Her face was wet from where they'd already fallen.

She sat up.

"You okay?" Jo asked groggily beside her.

Startled, Rachel glanced over. She'd forgotten about Jo. They'd been talking since Rachel and Nathan had arrived the night before, and they must have both fallen asleep. There was barely enough room for the two of them in Jo's twin bed, and Rachel couldn't help putting her hand over her stomach, thinking about how soon, there would hardly be enough room for just herself. 

Jo blinked sleep from her eyes and pushed herself up. "What's wrong, Rachel?"

She shook her head "I’m okay. I just had a dream."

"Nightmare?"

"No. No, it wasn't bad. I dreamed about the guy. The one that the demon possessed. We were talking." She blushed. "He combed my hair."

"Combed your hair?" Jo raised an eyebrow and gave Rachel a sexy half-smile. 

She shrugged, blushing harder. "It was tangled. He was helping. You know. I'd been stuck in a cave, captured by a troll. Your hair gets messed up."

"No, I wouldn't know. I don't get to hunt."

"Jo, your mom just wants to keep you safe. You know that."

"And your parents don't?"

"Hello? Pregnant with a demon baby. I haven't told them yet. And, when I do, I doubt they'll ever let me out of the house again, so, it's probably better that your mom won't let you hunt. You'll have a better life."

Jo looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Don't be." Rachel put her hands on Jo's. "I want you safe, too."

"I don't want to spend my life waiting tables in a bar, listening to other hunters tell about their adventures. I need more."

"So, go out there and do something. Just, don't hunt."

"But it's what I want to do." She smiled and shrugged, looking up at Rachel. "I'm not smart like you. I don't like just researching and then handing off a file to someone else to close the deal. I want to do it. I can do it, and I should be given a chance. I'm a Goddamn adult."

Rachel sighed. There was no getting through to Jo. She had her mind set on what she wanted, and she wasn't going to be dissuaded.

And really, why should she be? She'd been raised by hunters, worked around hunters, listened to them all day. She knew the lore, was a good shot, and was brave. And, as she pointed out, she was an adult. If she wanted to hunt, then she should be allowed do.

"I hope you don't expect me to try and convince your mom," she finally said. "I somehow don't think she'll listen to me right now."

Jo snorted. "Yeah. Yeah, I don't think so either. Too bad, too; I've got a great case in the works."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. A girl disappeared in Philadelphia last week." Jo released Rachel's hands and rolled off the side of the bed. She went to her dresser and pulled something out of the top drawer. "Over the past eighty years, six other women have all disappeared from the same building. " She handed a file to Rachel. "They're all young blondes, so either we're dealing with a serial killer or the ghost of one."

Rachel flipped through the file, looking at the pages. "Did you put this together?"

Jo nodded, looking proud.

"You should give it to the boys when they get here. It's worth looking into."

"I don’t want them to look into it; I want to."

Right.

"Then go. Like you said, you're an adult. You can do what you want. What's keeping you here?"

Jo looked wide-eyed at Rachel, then looked down at her hands. Shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing's keeping me. You're right, I should just go." But she didn't move. She just sat, looking at her hands.

Rachel smiled in understanding. It wasn't easy to defy your parents. Wasn't Rachel trying to avoid don't just that by not telling them about her situation? And Ellen was a formidable woman. Even Jo, with her strong personality, had to be nervous about going up against her.

Obviously was nervous.

She looked back at the file. "Philadelphia, huh? You know, Nathan has to go back to school soon. It's out that way, sort of. And I know he's gonna want to keep around Sam until the absolute last minute. And with all of us working on your mom, well. Maybe we can get her to agree that this is inevitable."

A smile tugged at Jo's lips. "You'd really stand up to my mom and come on a hunt with me?"

"Well, like I said, I'm probably not going to be able to convince her. But yeah."

Jo threw her arms around Rachel. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she exclaimed. She kissed Rachel's cheek a few times. "I really appreciate this."

Rachel laughed. "Hey, I'm not making any promises. But I will go to bat for you."

Jo's smile was brilliant. "Thank you, Rachel." She kissed her on the mouth, then flopped back on the bed. "I think with all of you working on her, she might say yes. If it was just you, or just Sam and Dean, maybe not. But the whole group? You all have gotta be able to wear her down."

There was a knock at the door. Soft. Tentative. It almost wasn't even there.

Rachel's stomach clenched hard.

Jo sat up. "Who's there?"

A throat cleared. "Uh. It's me."

Dean. Which she'd known when she'd heard the knock.

Jo put her hand on her shoulder. "Want me to tell him to get out of here until tomorrow morning?" she asked softly.

Rachel shook her head. "No, it's okay. I probably won't be back tonight."

"You sure?"

She just smiled and kissed Jo on the cheek. Then she gathered her courage as she slipped off the bed.

Dean stood on the other side of the door looking like he expected a punch the second it opened. He looked awful, all stubble and circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept for days.

He looked kind of like Rachel felt.

"Hey," she said softly, leaning against the doorjamb.

"Hey."

The just stood there. Looked at each other.

"Oh my God, are you seriously going do this here?" Jo said from behind. "And by 'this' I mean, 'stand there and make moony eyes?'"

Rachel couldn't help the smile that broke out. "Night, Jo." She stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind her. Then she leaned against it. "How you doing?"

He shrugged. "Dunno."

"Wanna go for a walk?"

"Thought I told you I didn't do that." But he said it with a smile and took her hand. 

They walked downstairs and left the bar through the back. A few minutes later, the dust of the road crunched under their shoes. Dean's shoes, Rachel's bare feet. The road was a little rough under them, but the soles of her feet were tough and it didn’t hurt. The asphalt was cool and the rocks bit into her feet.

"How you been?"

"Fine," Rachel said. "I feel fine."

"No, like, morning sickness or any of that?"

She shook her head. "I'm pretty much past that stage. Went though that trimester in blissful ignorance." Then she frowned. "Maybe it was on purpose."

"The damn thing owes you that much."

"True." Rachel stopped walking. "Dean…"

He stopped, too, and let out a sigh. "Can we not do this? Any chance?"

"Not one." She reached up and touched his cheek. "Do think I'm angry with you? You wouldn't take any of my calls."

He put his hand over hers. "No. Didn't think you were angry."

"You embarrassed?"

He didn't say anything. Just looked at her.

"I'm your wife. You're supposed to tell me things like how you're feeling. When you're scared about something. You need to tell me."

"Come on, Rach. I can't do that."

"Then this isn't going to work."

"You knew I wasn't someone who was all touchy feely, sharey-carey when you stayed with me. You knew that, and now you're saying you're gonna bail because of that? That's bullshit." 

Rachel shook her head and stroked his cheek. "That's not what I’m saying. But, Dean, I need to know what you're thinking about this stupid baby because I am going crazy trying to deal with it." Her voice cracked. "I need to know how you feel."

"I told you. We'll make it work. It'll be fine."

"But you said you were scared."

"Andy made me."

"But you're scared. Right?" She put her hands on his chest, her fists clenching in his shirt. "Just a little?"

He looked at her and pulled her close. His eyes studied her face, his hand traced her jaw. Then he nodded. "Yeah. I'm scared."

Rachel sighed in relief, tears coursing freely down her face. She rested her forehead against Dean's shirt.

"This is why I didn't want to say anything," he whispered into the top of her head. "You're going through so much, I didn't want to add to it."

She shook her head. "I need to know that you're not looking at this like it's something wonderful. I mean, I get that you plan on doing whatever you can to protect me and to keep it. That you'll fight to have your family, but this is a demon baby, and I need to know that you're scared, too."

He sank to the ground, taking Rachel with him and settling her in his lap. "Of course I'm scared, baby. I've been scared since I woke up in the hospital. Since you went missing. And, yeah, I'm afraid of the baby's evil or gonna kill you or something. But right now you're alive and you're okay and that’s what I keep thinking."

"The baby's not going to kill me. I'm not going to be taken away. I'm leaving you."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he said, voice low and gruff. He kissed the top of her head.

She wiped her eyes. "I had a dream about him."

Silence. Dean's arms tightened around her. "The demon?"

"No. The guy."

"Who was it?"

"I don't know."

"What, you didn't see him?"

"No, I did. And I remember that we were in the bedroom of the cabin. I was wet, like I'd taken a shower, and my hair was all knotted. I couldn't comb it out, so he did it for me. I saw him. I knew him. But I don't remember him."

"The demon is fucking with you."

She felt him wince, and she let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, he seems to do that a lot." She tilted her head back and looked up at Dean. "I like it better when you do it."

His eyes darkened. Dean lowered his face to her. Kissed her.

Rachel moaned softly, shivers running down her spine. She reached up, combing through Dean's hair and opening her mouth under his.

His mouth was soft and wet. His tongue brushed against her, exploring her mouth. His fingers slipped underneath her shirt and stroked her back. "I meant what I said," Dean whispered against her skin. "The only person I want is you. I used to be afraid I'd miss, you know. Picking up girls. But I don't."

She blinked tears from her eyes. Ran her fingers over his lips. "I'm glad to hear that. I know I'm not as good the other girls…"

He cut her off by kissing her. Sharp teeth nipped at her bottom lip and she shuddered against him.

"Babe, I didn't know how good it could be until I met you."

She was already on fire and didn't have the blood left to blush. But she ducked her head and kissed him. "Can we go back now? I really don't want to have sex on the side of the road."

Dean grinned. In one strong movement he stood up, sweeping her into his arms. "There is a bed with our name on it."

"Let's go."


	6. Chapter 6

"I am your mother, I don’t have to be reasonable!" Ellen shouted. The glasses behind the bar reverberated with her voice.

Rachel winced. This was not going the way she and Jo had planned. Her own parents always seemed to reasonable. Easy to talk to. Even when they were absolutely putting their foot down about something, it was never so loud.

Of course, she never yelled at her parents the way Jo was doing now. And Jo had a voice of her own as she practically screamed, "You can’t keep me here!" back.

Rachel's ears were beginning to hurt.

Dean slid a hand onto her shoulder. Squeezed. "Maybe we should just slip out now before Ellen remembers we're here."

She laughed softly. "I promised Jo I'd back her up."

"What are you going to do?" Jo asked. "Chain me up in the basement?"

"Don't give her ideas, Jo," Rachel said, but she whispered it. Despite her promise of back-up, she really, really didn't want to face Ellen.

Dean laughed. "Let's just back away slowly. We're all packed up, just need to make it to the door before…"

"Don't even think about it, Dean!" Ellen turned her furious gaze to them. "Or you, Rachel. I mean, what the hell are you thinking, filling my little girl's head with ideas about going out hunting? You, of all people!"

She shrank back against Dean. "Come on, Ellen," she said, voice quavering. "What happened to me isn't normal. Don't bring this whole thing into it." She pressed her hands into her stomach.

"You ain't cut out for hunting, little girl, that's for damn sure. You should never have been out there in the first place. If you were mine…"

"I'm not yours."

"But Jo is."

"Jo's better trained that I am. And she's an adult."

"She is my daughter, and I am not going to let her get killed on some dusty back road. Do you understand that?" She turned back to her daughter. "This family has lost enough, Joanna Beth. I am not going to lose you, too."

"Mom…"

Jo was interrupted by the door opening.

Nathan, who was standing with Sam even closer to the door than Rachel and Dean, swore.

"Nathan," Rachel's father said. "Language."

Rachel's stomach plummeted. She whirled, shoving Dean aside. "Mom. Dad. What are you doing here?"

Her mom smiled, but she looked sad. "Ellen called us. She told us what's going on."

"What?" Rachel shirked. She turned back to Ellen, her braids smacking into Dean as she whipped around again.

Ellen almost looked smug. She shrugged. "It's the mom code. I had to let her know that you were pregnant with a demon's baby. She's your mother."

"It was so none of your business."

"You made it my business the minute you came in here and told me what was going on. It ain't like your mom don't know this world. And she deserves to know."

Rachel trembled with anger as she stepped forward. "It was mine to tell. It was none of your business, whether or not I told you. It wasn't your job to tell my parents."

"And it's not your job to tell my daughter to out hunting."

"Your daughter is an adult. I'm adult. Stop treating us like children."

"Stop…"

"Shut-up, Ellen," Nathan said. His brown eyes burned and fists clenched.

"Nathan," Sam murmured. He put his hand on Nathan's shoulder.

Nathan shrugged him off. "You need to stop thinking of us all as children. We're adults and in charge of our own lives."

"Look, boy, you may be legal, and both you and your sister may have graduated from school and be living on your own, but you are still young and reckless and need looking after," Ellen said. "If you're gonna make stupid, childish decisions, then someone needs to clean up the mess."

"It wasn’t your mess!" Nathan shouted.

Their father turned to Sam and Nathan. "Nathan, what is wrong with you?"

Nathan clenched his jaw. Tore his gaze from Ellen to his father. "Don't you think Rachel has been through enough without someone else trying to take control of her life?" he asked.

Rachel swallowed back sudden tears. She stepped closer to Dean and put her face on his shoulder.

He put his arm around her. "You okay?"

She nodded silently. Inside, she felt raw. Torn apart. Betrayed. And Nathan was right. It wasn't that Ellen had told her parents. It was that the choice and the decision had been taken away from Rachel. Again.

She saw her father's face soften. He put his hand on Nathan's shoulder and squeezed. "It looks like the car outside was packed up to go somewhere. Were you guys going to hunt?" He looked at Sam.

Sam nodded. "Yes, sir. There's a something taking girls out in Philadelphia. We were going to go see what it was, then take Nathan back to school."

He nodded. "Well, why don't you two do that? They'll come out later if you need them."

Nathan sought Rachel's eyes. Looked at her questioningly.

She nodded and gave him a little smile. She'd wanted to say goodbye to Nathan before he went back to school, see him off, but that was out of the question now. Ellen had taken that away from her. But, maybe this was better for Nathan and Sam. Maybe some time alone would allow them to figure out what it was between them before they were parted.

"Okay, Dad," Nathan said. He took stepped back and took Sam's hand. "Let's go. I drive."

"The fuck you do!" Dean snapped. "Sam…"

"Calm down, Dean. I'll bring her back without a scratch on her." He smiled his trust me smile. "We'll put your stuff outside. And we'll call."

"You better." Dean looked down at Rachel. "I will kill your brother if he hurts my car."

"Yeah, I know." She lifted her head and kissed Dean. Then she looked at her parents. "So. I guess we need to talk."

"I can get some coffee for y'all," Ellen said.

Rachel turned and glared at her. "I don't think so. We're not staying here. And I'm not talking to you."

Ellen looked exasperated. "Rachel…"

"No." She turned back to her parents. "There's an Arby's down the road. Let's just go there. Or back to Bobby's or something. Just… I don't want to be here anymore." 

Her parents exchanged looks. 

"Okay," her mom said. "Just give me a minute. I need to use the restroom."

"Fine." Rachel pulled away from Dean, walked past bother her parents, and into the dusty parking lot of the Roadhouse. "Nathan!" she called, running to her brother, who was pulling a duffle bag from the trunk of the Impala.

Nathan dropped the duffle and caught Rachel up in a bear hug. "Hey, big sis. Did you really think I was leaving without saying goodbye?"

"Yeah, a little" she admitted. She wiped dust from her eyes when Nathan dropped her. "It's gonna be weird, not having you around. I've gotten used to having you in the next room."

He smiled, squinting in the sunlight. "You think you're gonna miss me, what about Sam?"

"I'll be fine, really," Sam said dryly. He pulled another duffle from the trunk and dropped it on the ground. "You okay, Rach?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. But Ellen better stay away from me for awhile. Can't guarantee I won't break her nose." She smiled wobbly up at Sam.

He nodded. "It wasn't fair, what she did. I'm sorry."

She shrugged. Looked back at her brother. "So, you be safe on this hunt, right? One of us has got to get our master's degree."

"I'll be fine. We'll go, find the ghost, salt and burn, and I'll be back at school before Dean even realizes his car is gone."

"Dean is already wishing that he hadn't agreed to let his brother and brother's boyfriend take the car," Dean said, coming up besides Rachel. "Seriously, dude. You so much as take off your shoes in my car, I will hunt you down and rip you limb from limb."

Nathan beamed. "Ah, Dean. You're going to miss me." Before Dean could react, Nathan threw his arms around Dean's neck and planted a sloppy kiss on his mouth. "I'll miss you, too." 

Dean shoved Nathan away. "What is wrong with you? Isn't is bad enough that Sam's kissed Rachel without us getting even more…"

"Hey, Mom! Dad!" Nathan said loudly. He let go of Dean and moved closer to his parents.

Rachel blushed as her dad looked from Nathan to Dean to Rachel to Sam. Then he shook his head. "I don't want to know." He put an arm around Nathan's neck and drew him closer. Dropped a rough kiss on his head. "Do us a favor, Nathan, and lay off the pot this semester. And if you do get high, don't call your grandfather."

"Ah, but I like calling Grandpa," he protested. "It's fun to listen to him lecture."

"Nathan."

"Fine." He actually seemed to wilt under the combined glares of his mother and father. Ducking his head, he stepped back. "I'll call you when we figure out what's going on," he said to no one in particular.

Rachel decided that he was talking to her and said, "Okay. And don't forget to call Ash about setting up a server for our database. We can work on that while…" She trailed off and put her hand to her stomach.

There was a long, awkward silence.

Sam finally broke it, clearing his throat. "Um, we should get going. "

"Yeah." Nathan nodded. He gave Rachel and his mother a kiss on the cheek, before climbing into the Impala.

Dean walked with Sam to the driver's side and stood there conferring, leaving Rachel alone with her parents.

She turned to them. The sun was hot and sweat beaded on her forehead. Her braids hung heavily across her back, absorbing heat, making her feel sick and lightheaded.

At least, that's what she blamed it on. She knew that wasn't it.

"Rachel?" her mom said softly. 

Rachel blinked back tears. "Are you mad at me?"

"No. No, of course not, sweetheart." Her mother put her arms around her and pulled Rachel close. "Honey, none of this is your fault. None of it."

"I should have called you," she whispered, tears flowing hotly down her cheeks. "I just… I don't want to leave Dean."

"Rachel, Dean is your husband," her father said. He put a hand on her shoulder. "We know how much you love him. We aren't going to make you cut him out."

Behind her, the car started up. She heard the tires grinding on the dirt as it pulled away.

"Um, so. What's going to happen now?" she heard Dean asked.

Her mom let her go. "Well, Rachel said something about Arby's?"

Rachel laughed. Brushed a tear away and glanced back at Dean.

He nodded. "Right. It's down the road."

"Well, then, let's go." Her mom put her hand on Rachel's shoulder again. "Honey?"

She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.

"What's wrong?"

"I have to pee," she ground out, the sudden, heavy pressure making itself known. She made a face, thought about trying to hold it, then threw up her hands and turned back to the Roadhouse.

As she stalked back through the parking lot, she heard Dean say, "Maybe we should just stay here?"

"Rachel?" Jo said when she burst back through the doors.

"Stupid demon baby," she said. She broke into a run for the women's restroom.  
When she came back out, feeling cooler and blissfully empty, she found her parents, Dean, and Jo sitting at a booth with sodas in front of them. Ellen was nowhere to be seen.

"So, I guess we're staying?" Rachel climbed into the booth next to Dean.

"We are already here," her father said. "We asked Ellen to give us some privacy." He smiled tentatively. "Your mom had high blood pressure during her pregnancies, and we don't want to risk anything."

She rolled her eyes. "The doctor said I'm fine. And I'd be more worried about Ellen's blood pressure, since having a gaping puncture wound in your neck tends to make it lower really quickly."

Jo snorted. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I would have warned you if I'd known." She slid out of the booth and leaned over to kiss Rachel on the forehead. "Just call if you need anything." Then she leaned closer. 

"Thanks, Jo." Rachel waited until the other girl had disappeared into the back before turning to her parents. "So."

"So." Her parents exchanged glances, then her mother pulled a file folder from her purse. "Ever since you were abducted, Rachel, I took over looking into the Winchesters' family history."

"Wait, what?" Dean said. His hand, which was resting on Rachel's knee, squeezed. "Looking into us."

Rachel put her hand over his. "You knew I was researching your family, Dean, remember? Back when I was still in school and had no time to do anything?"

From the dark look on his face, it seemed he was remembering Kit more than finding the file on his family on her computer, but he just nodded.

"Well, because of everything that happened, and trying to write up some of your cases and everything… I never got anywhere," she said in a rush, cheeks warming.

"But I thought we should look, just to see if we could figure out exactly why the demon is targeting your family," her mother said. She opened the file. "I started with your father. Looked through his family history, parents, grandparents, etc. And, all in all, there's nothing. I traced back about four generations, but found no evidence of mingling with the supernatural. Nothing to suggest that the demon is targeting the Winchesters through his side of the family."

Dean frowned. "So what does that mean?"

"Well, it means that the Winchesters appear to be completely normal, supernatural-wise." She smiled. "But your mother's family. There's where things got interesting."

"How so?"

"Your mother's family were hunters," her dad said. 

Rachel felt her mouth fall open. For some reason, that had never occurred to her, the idea that Mary Winchester came from a family of hunters. John had been such a… solider, it'd seemed natural to assume that everything came from his side.

Dean seemed similarly gob smacked. "My mother's family what now?" 

"They were hunters, Dean," her mom said.

"Dr. Adams…"

"Janet," she corrected.

He raised his eyebrows.

Rachel grinned. "We're married, and I'm pregnant. It's time to call my parents by their first name."

Dean looked at her, his cheeks warming. "Uh, right. So, uh. Janet. My mom was a hunter?"

She nodded. "By all appearances. Her parents definitely were, and grandparents. In fact, it seems like they were hunters clear back to England." Her lips twitched. "And they helped my family clear a vampire infestation out on the Mayflower."

It took a moment, but the minute the words processed, Rachel let her head fall back and laughed. "Oh, please, tell me you told Grandpa that. Please tell me you taped it. I want to see his face when he hears that."

"No, I saved that for you. I figured the next time he starts picking on you, Dean, you can throw that in his face. Just make sure I'm there, too," Janet said, eyes dancing.

Dean still seemed kind of mystified, but he nodded and muttered, "Yeah, sure."

Rachel exchanged looks with her mom. "So, what does that mean? Does this demon show up in his family history?"

"No. It doesn't. But." Janet met her eyes, then dropped down to the file in front of her. She shuffled through some papers. "Both Mary's parents died on the same day. There were traces of sulfur in Samuel Campbell, your grandfather, Dean. Official cause of death was a knife wound, but it's clear he was possessed before." She passed the coroner's report to them.

Rachel and Dean's heads bumped as they leaned over it. They rubbed, but kept reading.

"What does this mean?" Dean asked when he was done reading.

"We don't know, Dean," Rachel's dad said. "We can only speculate."

"Then what do you speculate?" he spat.

But Rachel knew. Her stomach sank, and she felt nauseated as she said, "One of them made a deal. Probably for the other's life." She looked at Dean, her eyes burning. "The demon possessed her dad. Threatened one of your parents, and the other made a deal for them."

"What kind of deal?"

She shook her head. Her hand pressed against her stomach. "Something to do with Sam."

He glared at her, jaw clenched, eyes burning. "Something to do with Sam. So, like, it's Sam's father, too? Did this thing rape my mom?"

"Considering that your brother wasn't born for ten more years, I doubt it," Janet said. "But it would appear that it has something to do with Sam and his powers."

"You said he was born with them," Dean said to Rachel in an accusing voice. "That he was psychic. That it was like… like your dreamwalking or Nathan's empathic shit."

"I guess I was wrong," she whispered.

Dean clenched his jaw. Closed his eyes. "Sorry." He reached blindly for her hand and squeezed it.

"We don't know exactly what the demon wanted from your parents, Dean, or what it did to Sam," Rachel's dad said. "We don’t know why it took Rachel. But we can tell you that, as far as all our research, no demon needs a human to procreate."

"So it did for shits and giggles?"

Her dad rolled his eyes. "That seems most likely."

"So, what does your research mean?"

Janet shrugged. "It's just a little more background at this point. I'll keep looking, as will Chris and Rachel. And we'll start documenting your pregnancy, Rachel."

Her stomach did a nosedive. "What do you mean documenting?" she asked warily.

Her parents exchanged looks, then Janet said, "Well. This is the first demonic pregnancy of the twenty-first century. And, no one who has ever claimed demonic pregnancy in the past has kept careful records. And the more information we gather, the better prepared we'll be for what's to come."

She was going to be sick. "And how are we going to gather the information?"

Her mom gave what Rachel was sure was supposed to be a comforting smile. "We're flying out a friend. He's a doctor, and he's meeting us in Omaha."


	7. Chapter 7

Dean had to give one thing to Rachel's parents: they got stuff done. And fast. In the few hours since they'd arrived, they'd gotten Rachel a doctor, driven across state to see said doctor, somehow gotten clearance in a freaking hospital, and turned Dean's entire world upside down. And considering how often that had happened since waking up and finding out Rachel was his wife all those months ago, he had to wonder how he was still sane.

His mother had been a hunter. Her whole family had been hunters. No way Dean had seen that coming. His father had never talked about Mom's parents. He'd never talked about his own parents, except to say they'd died before Dean had been born. Dean had never thought to wonder about his mom's parents.

They'd been hunters.

And Sam hadn't been born a psychic. The demon had done something to him. One of his parents, or his grandparents, had made a deal. Had given him Sam.

Fuck. Dean had known Sam shouldn't be messing with these powers. He'd always said so. But Rachel had been so convinced that Sam had been like her grandfather or something. She'd insisted…

Not that Sam had made much progress. As far as Dean knew, Sam had never gotten any kind of control of his powers. He definitely wasn't like Andy or his freaky brother. Or that douchebag, Max. They could control those freaky powers; Sam couldn't.

That was something. All they had to do was keep Sam from trying to use his powers, and everything would be okay.

Yeah. And pigs flew and wishes came true and angels were watching over him. Dean believed it all.

They were in another hospital, another room. It was beginning to feel like a joke. They'd always avoided hospitals before, whenever they could. Too much risk involved in being caught by the police or insurance agents or something. But Rachel was pregnant. And rich, and she didn't have a police record. So they were practically living in hospitals it seemed.

The doctor the Adamses had flown out was Dr. Steven Flynn, MD. He was a friend of Rachel's parents, knew all about the supernatural and hunters and stuff. Apparently, he specialized in treating people who'd been possessed by demons or attacked by other supernatural creatures.

If he hadn't been so fucking annoying, Dean would almost regret not knowing about him before. It wouldn't have been so bad going to a doctor who knew how to treat all the crap they dealt with.

But, he was annoying. In the first five minutes after meeting him, Dean had almost punched him. The man was just way to excited about the fact that Rachel was pregnant with a demon baby and seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact she was scared out of her mind. Dean had no idea how he was going to deal with this guy for nine months.

But, Rachel's parents seemed to trust him, and Rachel trusted her parents, so Dean was biting his tongue. Biting his tongue and squeezing Rachel's hand as she was forced to tell him what she remembered about the conception (still nothing more than those few flashes), how she'd been feeling during the first few weeks of the pregnancy (she hadn't noticed), and what she knew about the demon who'd done this to her (it had yellow eyes).

Dr. Flynn had written it all down, then grilled Dean about what he knew, which was, unfortunately, not much more. He felt like an idiot, but who didn't notice their wife was nearly fourteen weeks pregnant, but, dude, it hadn't been noticeable. It wasn’t like he kept track of her cycle or anything, and he only bought her pads or whatever when she put it on the list and it was his turn to shop. She hadn't been throwing up, and while, yeah, maybe she'd been tired in retrospect, but he why should he notice if she hadn't? 

"So you don't know anything else?" Dr. Flynn said when Dean was done talking. "Your father never found out what kind of demon it was?"

Dean shrugged and laced his fingers through Rachel's. They were in an examination room, Rachel on the table in a paper gown. Her father had excused himself from being in the actual exam, which was probably a good thing because there were just some things a father shouldn't see, but Janet was there on the other side of the bed. She was stroking Rachel's hair, listening silently as Rachel and Dean talked with that same look on her face that Rachel got when her mind was working a million miles an hour.

"I think he might have, but he never told me," Dean said, the old frustration burning dully in his stomach. Yeah, John had never said what kind of demon was after his family. He'd told Dean that it had infected Sam and that Dean might have to kill his brother if something went wrong, but he hadn't bothered telling Dean why. Just that this thing was dangerous. That Sam might be dangerous.

But, as usual, he'd held back vital information. And now they were all paying for it.

Then something occurred to him. "Holy water didn’t affect it," he said.

Dr. Flynn pursed his lips. "It didn't?"

"No."

He sat back and ran a hand over his perfectly silver hair. "I've never heard of any demon that's not affected by holy water. Have you, Janet?"

She shook her head, but added, "Demons aren't really my specialty. I haven't run across many in my life. They're pretty rare."

"Yeah, they used to be," Dean said. "In the past year, Sam and I have run into more than we've done in our whole lives."

Janet frowned. "I wonder why there are suddenly so many of them. Or where they've all been. What about your hunter friend? Bobby? Has he dealt with many demons?"

"Some, but not more than us."

"Obviously, the demon who did this is planning something," Rachel said. She'd lain back at some point and closed her eyes, like she was asleep. But now, she opened her eyes and stared sightlessly at the ceiling. "I bet whatever he's planning is going to happen in, oh, about six months."

"How you figure?" Dean asked, then immediately bit his tongue hard enough to taste blood.

Rachel gave him a look.

"Sorry." He squeezed her hand apologetically. "So maybe that's why these kids are popping up right now? Like Sam and his visions and stuff? They're getting ready for some deadline."

"Probably," Rachel said.

"What kids?" asked Dr. Flynn.

Rachel clenched her jaw. Color rose her to her cheeks, and she took a couple of really deep breaths. This was a sure sign that someone was about to die.

Janet beat Dean to it. "Dr. Flynn, maybe you should do the sonogram now, and we can continue the conversation after."

"When I have my underwear on," Rachel added, voice sharp enough to cut.

Flynn just blinked his stupid blue eyes behind his stupid steel rimmed glasses—he seriously looked like he'd stepped out of a J. Crew catalog or something—and then nodded. "Oh. Yes, of course. Um, Elaine?" He turned to the nurse.

The nurse handed him some kind of probe.

"So, uh," Dean said, not sure if he should avert his eyes or what, "what, exactly, are we going to see?"

"A fourteen week old fetus, presumably," Flynn answered, leaning in between Rachel's legs and narrowing his eyes.

Dean's jaw clenched. "Is the baby human or demon?"

He looked up. "Well, there's no clear account. That's what makes this so exciting."

"Dr. Flynn!" Janet snapped. "This is not exciting. This is my daughter."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Adams. Really." Dr. Flynn had the decency to look a little bit embarrassed. "Of course, I realize that this is very hard for all of you. But this is the first case of demonic pregnancy in the twenty-first century, and the first one where we will be sure to have accurate and complete data. I'm sorry if I sound like I'm getting carried away, but this is my life's work."

"And she is my life's work," Janet said.

Dean bit his tongue again, this time more gently. No way he was going to say something like Rachel was his life or whatever. But when Janet's words took the last of the excitement from Flynn's face, Dean was tempted.

"You didn't answer his question," Rachel said, voice sounding hoarse. "Is this thing going to look like a demon?"

Flynn shrugged. "Well, we'll get a better idea once we do the sonogram, but most likely not. Usually, there are demonic traits about the offspring, but overall it's human."

"Traits?" repeated Dean.

"Yes, like a tail or hooves. The last reordered case was said to have cat-like eyes, like the demon that fathered it."

Rachel sighed and closed her eyes again.

"What about the personality?" Janet asked. "Are they more demonic or human?"

"Should I just line up the name Damien and get it over with?" Rachel whispered.

"I highly doubt this will be the anti-Christ," Flynn said in what Dean was sure to be a comforting tone.

Rachel tightened her hand on Dean's, face now completely red. 

Dean held her hand tightly, just to keep her from clocking Flynn.

"So, what will it be?" Rachel asked.

Flynn shrugged. "I don't know. There isn't enough data to predict."

"What about the cat-eyed kid? What was it like?"

"Stories don't really say. Just that when he grew up, he went after his father."

Dean could feel some of the pressure on his chest ease. "So, the demon never came for the kid or anything."

"Well, it couldn't. The woman killed it post-coitus."

Rachel snorted. "Wish I had thought of that." Tears escaped from under her lashes.

Dean grabbed a tissue. Wiped them away. "What about what she said? About the demon needing a human host to reproduce."

Dr. Flynn shook his head. "That was clearly a lie. I've never heard of any demon needing a human to reproduce."

"But this one might," Janet said. "It's already acting atypically. And the only person to identify it is dead."

"And he didn't leave any records?" Dr. Flynn sounded disappointed. But, like, _there's no Santa_ disappointed, not _we could actually help Rachel if we knew_ disappointed.

Dean wondered what they'd do if he punched the doctor.

"No records. And, even if we knew, this thing can wipe minds," Dean said tightly. "Rachel can't even remember what happened. Not clearly."

"I know," Flynn said in what Dean was sure was supposed to be a soothing voice. "I was just hoping that maybe it was written somewhere." Sighed, then looked back at Rachel. "Okay, Rachel, I'm going to slide this in so we can get an idea of what's inside you."

"Doctor!" Janet snapped. 

He grimaced. "Sorry. Rachel, don't worry. Like I said, baby usually looks perfectly human. I'm really just checking for development."

She closed her eyes again, the blood draining from her face. Tears slid down her cheeks.

Dean leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "It's okay, baby. I'm here."

"Thanks," she said. 

Her eyes tightened, hand clutching at Dean's as the doctor slid the probe inside her.

He held her gripped her hand back. Rubbed her arm with his free hand.

Then he jumped.

"What the hell is that?" he said, looking at the machine. It was making a thumping sound, like a broken squeeze toy or a drum or a…

"That's the heartbeat." The doctor pressed a button. "And that is your baby."

The last doctor hadn't showed them this. Hadn't made them listen to the heartbeat. Rachel had been too upset, and Dean had been too worried about Rachel, so the doctor had kept it hidden from them. Just said that everything looked normal and sounded fine.

He squinted at the machine, and his stomach dropped. He hadn't expected to be able to see anything. On TV and movies, they always said it was hard to see, like a blur, and the chick was always crying because she couldn't see her baby, but that…

"That's a head!" he couldn't help exclaim, pointing at the monitor. Then, because of the circumstances, he dropped his voice and whispered, "It's really big. Is that normal?"

"That's perfectly normal, Dean," Flynn said. "You said the other doctor put you at about thirteen weeks?"

"Yeah." Rachel's voice was tight. Tense. "But that was almost a week ago."

Holy crap. That was a baby. _Rachel's_ baby. The baby he was going to raise, going to fight tooth and nail to keep no matter what. It was a baby, with a big fucking head and tiny little arms and little stick legs. 

And a heart. A tiny little heart that was beating.

He let out a breath, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. He was surprised to find his eyes wet.

"It's human," he said.

"It certainly looks human," Flynn said, continuing to move the probe and push buttons. "Really, it's what I'd expect."

"Right, but… that's human." Dean reached out and touched the screen.

"Dean, don't get too carried away," Janet said, but she sounded very far away.  
It didn't matter what she said, or what Rachel feared, or what Flynn theorized. That was a fucking human baby. He knew demons. That wasn't one.

"Dean?" Rachel whispered.

Dean tore his eyes from the screen and looked down at Rachel.

She had her eyes closed, tear tracks painted down her face.

"You okay?" he asked, squeezing her hand.

"Yeah." She opened her eyes and met his. "I'm fine. Just, you know. Uncomfortable."

"I'm almost done, Rachel," Dr. Flynn said.

She swallowed and nodded. "So. Big head, huh? Must take after you."

He snorted. "Don't think so, babe. You're the one with all the brains."

A tear slid from the corner of her eye. She smiled tremulously.

Dean wiped the tear away.

"Okay, that'll do it," the doctor said. He pulled the probe out and handed it to the nurse. Then he removed his gloves with a loud snap. "So, I'll let you get dressed, then have Elaine take some blood. We'll run some tests, both standard and some that have been traditionally used for demonic pregnancies, and…"

"Wait," Dean interrupted. "How can you have tests for a demonic pregnancy if this is the first one you've ever seen?"

He shrugged. "There's lore. I don't know how accurate it is, but it's all we got."

"How much blood are you going to take?"

"She'll be fine, Dean."

His jaw tightened again. "Why don't you try reassuring her?" he snapped. 

Flynn blinked. Looked at Rachel. "You're going to be fine. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Rachel smiled wryly. "Gee, thanks, Doctor. Can I put my underwear back on, now?"

"Sure. Um, I'll just step outside. Elaine?" he said to the nurse.

"I'll come with you," Janet said. "My husband and I have a few questions." She leaned over and kissed Rachel's forehead. "You okay?"

"Yeah, Mom, I'm fine."

Once everyone else was out of the room, Rachel slid off the bed. "Yuck. Oh, God, I hate pelvic exams." She grabbed a handful of tissues and turned away from Dean.

He sat down and looked at the now empty screen of the sonograph machine. "So. You think we can trust this Dr. Flynn?"

"My parents do. Hand me my underwear?"

Dean picked it up from the pile and handed it over to her. "He kind of seems like a jerk to me."

"Most of my parents' friends are. Sometimes. Jeans?"

He passed them over. "I wanted to punch him in the face."

"So did I." She sighed. A moment later, she settled into his lap. 

"You okay?" Dean asked, putting his arms around her.

"I will be." She sighed again and rested her head against his. "At least it doesn't have, like, a visible tail or anything. Or hooves. At least not yet. I don't think I could handle that." She wrinkled her nose. "What do you think would happen if I drank a gallon of holy water? Or ate a bunch of raw salt?"

He squeezed her. "Don't."

"No, I won't, I…"

"Don't."

She fell silent. Nodded. "I won't."

He rubbed her back before sliding his hand up to the back of her neck. 

"You know, Bobby's home town is kind of nice. And it's got a hospital," she said.

"So… what?"

"I'm just saying. I'll need to be somewhere close to a hospital so Dr. Flynn can do his experiments on me."

"He's not experimenting."

"He kind of is." She tilted her head back and looked up at Dean. "I'm sure there's a house for rent in town. And I'll be near Bobby if anything happens."

"I don't like to think of you all alone in a house. Pregnant." His stomach twisted, thinking what could happen.

"I'm going to have to be, sometime."

"You could live with your parents."

"I don't want to."

He wrinkled his nose and said, "You could live with Nathan."

"Dean, I don't want to move in with my brother or my parents. I want a place that's ours. That you could come home to." She kissed him. "I'm not asking you to give up hunting."

"I would," he said before he thought about it.

Her lips twisted. "So you say right now."

"No, I'm serious. Let Sam and Nathan go after the demons and the ghosts. Or Sam and Jo. Or Sam. I want to stay with you."

"I don't even want to stay with me," Rachel said, shifting. She winced and put her hand on her stomach.

Panic shot through him. "What's wrong? Are you in pain? Are you all right? Let me get the doctor."

"I'm fine, Dean. It's just that… round ligament pain or whatever the doctor was talking about earlier." Her hand tightened on his shirt. "Stay."

"You sure?"

She nodded. Closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest.

Dean forced himself to relax. Cuddle her closer, letting his chin drop on the top of her head. He sat there, listening to her breath and trying to imagine a life without hunting and killing every night.

He wasn't sure how he felt about it. He wanted to want it. Wanted to stay with her, safe. Protecting her and living in a house. Waking up and going to a normal job every day. Not having the constant stress and adrenaline and fear.

It sounded nice. But, somewhere inside, Dean was pretty sure Rachel was right. It couldn't last. He wouldn’t be happy like that, not for very long. And, the demon was coming after them. Coming after Sam and Rachel, both. It wasn't like Dean could just let that happen while he went to some nine to five job and fell asleep on the couch.

"Okay," he finally said, tightening his arms around her. 

"Okay, what?"

He tightened his arms around her. "Maybe a house or apartment near someone isn't a bad idea. But, let's think it through. I mean, it doesn't have to be in Sioux Falls in the middle of nowhere just because that's where Bobby lives. There are other people you can live near, including your brother and parents. In our own house."

"Dean…"

"I'm just asking you to think about it." He pulled back and tilted her head up so he could look into her eyes. "Just think about it, okay?"

Rachel sighed. Nodded. "Okay. I'll think about it." She closed her eyes and rolled her neck. "Okay. Let's go do the rest of this and get it over with. I want a cheeseburger."

He smiled. "You're not pregnant. You're just turning into me."

She laughed. "And pie. Three pieces. Chocolate." She slid off his lap, but grabbed his hand, pulling him along. "And ice cream. And…"

"Chocolate pie? What about apple?"

"We can have that, too." She stopped at the door. Pulled Dean against her and kissed him. "Hey, you know what?" she whispered into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"What?" He kissed her, tongue pressing into her mouth, stroking against hers.

"Did you know pregnant can get really, really horny?" She nipped his bottom lip, fingers teasing through his hair.

He groaned into her mouth. "Cheeseburgers, pies, and sex? Girl, you are the woman of my dreams."

Rachel laughed. For the first time since this whole mess began, she almost sounded like herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The demon pregnancy and cat-eyed boy Dr. Flynn talks about was taken from the song "Cat-Eyed Willie Comes to Claim His Lover" by Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer. The song is kind of what inspired the whole pregnancy arc and is absolutely terrific.


	8. Chapter 8

The sun was beating against the door of the motel room, making a warm spot against it in the chilly morning air when Sam stepped outside. For a moment, he stood there, leaning against the door and let out a sigh of relief.

To say yesterday had been awful would be an understatement. Nathan wasn't exactly the easiest travel companion under normal circumstances. He hummed songs that weren't playing on the radio, always slightly off key. He randomly described the scenery, as if everyone else couldn't see it. He started conversations in the middle, sometimes in the middle of sentences, and just expected others to follow along. He kicked the back of the seat and started wiggling nonstop after being on the road for over an hour.

And that was when he was in a good mood.

When he was in a bad mood, well. His personality was so big, it filled the car. And when he was dark, everything was dark. The atmosphere of the car was just oppressive.

Luckily, he wasn't in a bad mood often. Even the day before, it wasn't that Nathan had been in a bad mood so much as worried. And the longer they drove, the further away from Rachel they got, the quieter he got. Sam had tried to keep up the conversation, keep things light, but by the time they'd finally pulled into a motel around midnight, Nathan hadn't spoken for almost two hours.

Nathan had been restless all night, tossing and turning and hogging the covers. He hadn't wanted to make out, hadn't wanted talk, hadn't wanted to be held. Sam might as well have gotten two beds; maybe then he could have gotten more than a half an hour of sleep a time. He definitely wouldn't have bruises on his side from Nathan's kicking.

Around five, Nathan had gotten out of bed. Sam had fallen asleep to the sound of the shower starting up; when he woke around nine, Nathan had been sitting in the corner of the room, eyes closed, legs crossed, meditating. He'd still been like that after Sam had showered and shaved. He was so still, Sam wasn't completely convinced that he was even awake. Meditating or sleeping sitting up, though, at least he was quiet and still.

Sam opted not to disturb him. Nathan needed to relax. Sam needed coffee.

Dear God, he needed coffee.

Sam stretched, trying to work out the kinks in his back. For being so small, Nathan somehow managed to take up the whole bed, forcing Sam into uncomfortable positions.

Of course, he was going to be gone pretty soon. Back to college. And Sam would have the bed to himself again.

He sighed and let his head bang against the door.

There was no way he could ask Nathan to stay. It wouldn't be fair. Not to any of them. Nathan was working on his masters. He had a real life and a chance to make something of himself. Sam was, well. Sam had given that up. His life was hunting now, at least until they killed the demon.

Maybe Rachel could be convinced to go live with Nathan. Or at least live in the same town. Then Sam would have a reason to visit him.

Speaking of…

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. There was a message from Dean waiting for him.

"Hey, Sam. So, Rachel's okay. Her parents got this doctor out to treat her. He's an asshole, but he seems to know what he's doing. Maybe. Look, we need to talk, and there's a lot of stuff I need to tell you that isn't good for voice mail. Call me when you get this. Just, two things. Mom was a hunter. Her whole family was hunters, can you believe that? Rachel's parents dug up all this stuff on her. Oh, and someone in her family made a major deal with the demon, and your powers probably have something to do with it. So, you know. Stop using them. Call me."

"Dean!" Sam heard Rachel call in the background.

"Oh! But not tonight, 'cause I’m kind of busy tonight. Tomorrow. Later."

Sam winced. Then stopped.

Shit.

* * *

Nathan jumped at the sudden loud bang, eyes flying open. He barely had time to register the fact that Sam had thrown open the door so hard that it cracked the wall he'd hauled Nathan to his feet and pinned him to the wall.

The thunderous expression on his face clued Nathan into the fact this wasn't foreplay.

"Did you know?" Sam demanded.

Nathan blinked. His vision swam from where his head had smacked into the wall. "Did I know what?"

"About my mother? About her being a hunter?"

"What?"

"You said that someone probably made a deal, that's why my mom died. That's why the demon was there. You said it was probably my grandparents. Did you know?"

"No, I didn't. I was just speculating. I mean, if you dad didn't know about demons, then maybe it came from your grandparents. But I was thinking his parents. Or… I don't know." He shrugged. Put his hands on Sam's chest. "I don't know anything about your family, Sam."

Sam's face was still twisted, but his hands relaxed just a little from their death grip in Nathan's shirt. His chest rose and fell somewhat unevenly.

Nathan slid his hands up Sam's chest and laced his fingers behind his neck. "What happened?"

"Dean called last night." Sam let out a long breath. His head fell forward, resting against Nathan's. "Apparently, your parents traced my family's history. All Dean said was that our mom and her family were hunters. That, and someone made a major deal. Which is what you said."

"Because it's obvious." At Sam's look, Nathan winced and said, "To someone on the outside looking in. Because it's how things usually work, but no one wants to think their family is involved."

Sam nodded. "So what about Rachel?" he asked, eyes distant.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, do think that was a deal, too?" He looked back at Nathan. "Do you think maybe she made a deal with it for… something?"

His stomach clenched, and he closed his eyes. "I don't know," he whispered, surprised to find a lump in his throat. "I mean, I've been looking at demonic pregnancies in those books from Bobby. Most of the time, if there's a deal, someone else makes it. Like in Rosemary's Baby, the asshole husband sells Rosemary so he can have a career. But, in a few cases, the woman agreed for some reason." His voice cracked on the last word.

Lips pressed against Nathan's forehead. "Sorry, Nathan," Sam said against his skin. "I know Rachel wouldn't do something like that. I shouldn't have asked it."

"It was a fair question. I mean, if not her, then who?" He hated how his voice shook.

This time, Sam kissed him properly, mouth warm on his own, huge hand cradling the back of his neck. "Okay," he whispered, resting their foreheads together again. "Let's not do this. Okay? We're just running in circles. Dean said Rachel was fine. She didn't make a deal. No one probably did, except for, you know. What I just told you." He sighed and kissed Nathan again. "I need to call Dean."

"You didn't talk to him?"

"Not yet." Sam bussed his lips over Nathan's and pulled away. "He left a message, and I got distracted by the idea that you were holding out on me." He sat on the bed.

Nathan smirked. "Baby, I'd never hold anything out on you."

Sam rolled his eyes as he pulled his phone from his pocket. "Don't think that you're going to start calling me 'baby.' I'm not sure I want you calling me Sammy." 

"Did Jessica call you Sammy?" Nathan asked, straddling Sam.

His thumb hovered above the call button, eyes turning inward. "No," he said with a shake of his head. "She didn't." He put his hand on Nathan's back and pressed call.

While the phone rang, Nathan settled his head into the crook of Sam's neck. Kissed, pressing his mouth against Sam's warm skin. He expected Sam to push him away, but the other man just stroked his hand over Nathan's back until he wanted to purr.

It hurt to think that this was going to be gone in a few days. That he had to go back to school, and Sam would stay on the road, hunting. Nathan had no idea if they were going to continue this or what. Sam was, up until recently, a straight guy. And Nathan was just, for the most part, really persuasive. And, yeah, he knew that wasn't all it, because if someone was totally straight they didn't have relationships with people of the same sex. Or, if they did, it's because they really, really like that person.

But he didn't know how much Sam liked him. Okay, yeah, that was stupid because obviously, Sam liked him a lot. Liked him enough to go outside his comfort zone and share a bed with him and talk and everything. But they never talked about their feelings or really where their relationship was going. All Nathan knew was they were finally starting to do more in bed than rub off while clothed, and he was very interested in going further. Like, a lot further.

But he was leaving. And he didn't know if he was in a relationship or a fling. And he didn't know how to ask.

It'd be so much easier if Nathan wasn't going back to school. Or if Rachel would come live with him. At least then, it'd be guaranteed that Sam came to visit him occasionally. If Sam was there, Nathan was fairly sure he could seduce him.

But without Rachel, there was no real reason for Sam to stop by. 

"Dude, it's way too early to call," Nathan heard Dean say on the phone. "Time zones, man. "

"We're in the same time zone, Dean. It's nine-thirty."

"Call back in an hour."

"Dean, don't…" Sam abruptly stopped talking. Pulling the phone from his ear, he redialed. 

Nathan crawled off Sam and grabbed his phone from the dresser. "I'll try Rachel."

"Your funeral," Sam said. "You know what she does to people who call her before ten."

"Ah, she'd never hurt me." 

The ringing stopped. "Oh, I'm gonna kill you," Rachel mumbled.

"Ah, come on, don't be like that," Nathan said sweetly. "I'm just calling to see how you are."

"I'm tired. What do you want?"

Sam took the phone from Nathan and put it on speaker. "What's this about my mom being a hunter?"

Rachel sighed heavily. "It is too early for this," she muttered. "And can you believe that asshole is in the bathroom? I've got little demon hooves dancing on my bladder, and he's hogging the toilet."

"Really?" Nathan frowned at the image. "It has hooves?"

"It does not have hooves," Dean's voice called distantly. "Check your e-mail. It looks completely human, except for its huge head. But that's totally normal." His voice was closer now, right on top of the phone.

Sam and Nathan exchanged looks.

"E-mail?" Sam repeated. He scooted up the bed and grabbed his laptop from the nightstand. 

"Yeah, I sent you a copy of the sonogram the doctor took yesterday. You need to see this, man. It's just this little bulge thing with a big-old alien head." He sounded proud.

Nathan raised his eyebrows at Sam, who just rolled his eyes and shrugged. Apparently, Dean had swung from being justifiably freaked out about maybe having to kill a demon baby to proud papa again. 

"Dean just remember that just because it looks human…" Sam started, but Dean cut him off with an irritable, "I know, I know."

Sam grimaced as he pulled up his e-mail. "So, how's Rachel handling it?"

"Well, she refused to have sex with me until I took the picture off the wall," Dean answered. "Said it was too much like it was looking at us. But, honestly, she seems a little better since actually seeing the ultrasound and everything. Relieved there weren't any tails or horns or anything."

"You hung the sonogram on the wall?" Nathan said. He moved next to Sam and looked over his shoulder.

There was a pause, then Dean said, "You know what, just wait until one of you gets someone pregnant and see what you do. And don't even say what you're thinking, because I know, I get it, but she's my wife and I am not going to justify myself to you two."

Sam put his hand over Nathan's mouth before he could say anything. "It's cute, Dean. The baby, I mean." He squinted. "What we can see, anyway."

Dean snorted; Nathan could imagine him blushing and looking embarrassed right now as he said, "Okay, you know what? Conversation over. Why'd you call?"

"Um, Mom was a hunter? She made a deal?"

"I never said Mom made a deal!"

Nathan winced. He hadn't realized that Dean could hit that pitch without being kicked in the crotch.

"Okay, so what did you say? How could Mom be a hunter and Dad never told us?"

"Dad never told us a lot of things, did he? Maybe he didn't want us looking up her family, or maybe they're dead or something, I don't know. I've given up trying to guess the hell Dad was thinking anymore."

"Her family's old, though," Rachel said, apparently returning from the bathroom. "Old enough to rub in my grandfather's face."

Nathan jumped off the bed and crossed the room. "Mom and Dad have a file on them?" he asked, opening up his laptop.

"Yeah, but stops with Mary's death. There could still be cousins or whatever."

"But, here's the weird thing. Both her parents died the same day. And her dad was possessed before he died," said Dean.

"Possessed?" Sam repeated.

"Yeah, there were traces of sulfur and everything. He was stabbed, which was how he died, but who knows how long he was possessed before?"

"When was this?"

"Uh, May 1973," Dean answered.

Sam frowned. "Isn't that when Mom and Dad got married?"

"Yeah."

Nathan looked up from his computer, frowning. "It waited ten years?"

"Ten years for what?" Sam asked.

"Well, if you're the deal," Nathan said, "it waited ten years until it… it did whatever."

"What did it do to me?" Sam asked. "What was this deal?"

Silence. 

Then Dean sighed. "I don't know, man. But did something to you. You and all the kids. That's why you have powers."

"What did it do?" There was a hysterical note in his voice. 

"We don't know, Sam," Dean said. "But Dad found out, at the end."

"And he told you?"

"No. Not exactly." He cleared his throat. "But, uh. He told me that it did something, and I needed to save you."

"Save me from what?"

Silence fell again.

Sam shook his head and looked over at Nathan. His eyes were bright and he had a look on his face saying he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

A sort of ache spread through Nathan. He quickly opened his e-mail on his computer, opened the expected e-mail from his parents, and began downloading the file they'd sent him. Then he slid out of his seat to go to Sam.

"So, what do you think this deal was? I mean, you think it, like, possessed Dad and…"

"No," Dean interrupted. 

"Oh, come on. Is it really that difficult to imagine? I mean, what if it asked Dad for permission to give him one of us? And by us, I mean we. What if…"

"John wouldn't have agreed to that," Rachel said. "He wouldn't have agreed to let it have either of you. It wouldn't have let it possessed him."

"How do you know? You don't know what happened back then. What it said to him."

"You don't know it was him! Considering how long it took him to figure out what the demon was, I doubt he knew anything. I'm sorry, Sam, but your mom probably made a deal."

Sam screwed his eyes shut. "She couldn't have. Dean, you know. She couldn't have."

"Sam," Nathan said softly, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Even if your mom made a deal, that doesn't mean… anything, really."

"What does that mean?" 

"Well. It's a demon. Since when do demons tell the truth?"

"Or even the whole story," Rachel said. "If it was your mom—and it could have been one of your grandparents—but if it was your mom, she might not have known what she was saying yes to."

"Did you know?" Sam asked bluntly.

Nathan heard Rachel's sharp intake a breath. Mattress springs squeaked and a door slammed.

"Not cool, Sam," said Dean, voice dark.

Nathan pulled away from Sam and grabbed his phone. "Dean, give your phone to Rachel. I'm gonna call her."

"You know, I really hate you both. Why couldn’t you just sleep in like normal people?" There was a soft thumping sound. "Okay, she has the phone."

Without another word to Sam, Nathan left the motel room, calling Dean's phone. He had to call it three times before she finally picked up.

"You gonna defend your boyfriend?" Rachel answered, nose clogged, voice full of tears.

"Naw. He was an asshole," Nathan answered. He climbed onto the hood of the Impala, which was parked outside their room.

She sniffed loudly. "What if he's right? What if I agreed to bring the anti-Christ into this world?"

"You didn't."

"You don't know that."

"Okay, you're right. I don't know that. But why would you?"

"To save my life?"

Nathan shook his head. "No. That wouldn't be enough."

"I don't want to die, Nathan. I was about to be eaten by a troll. I don't want to be eaten by a troll. Maybe it offered to save me in exchange for this."

"No, because the demon didn't rescue you. The guy did."

"Maybe the man was authorized to make deals on its behalf."

"And then stuck around a couple weeks to sleep with you? Didn't you say you knew the man? I mean, if anyone made a deal, it was this mystery man."

"Maybe." She sighed. "Dr. Flynn, the doctor friend of Mom and Dad's, is doing a DNA test. He said he should have results in a week or so."

"That's good."

"If nothing happens, like his memory's erased or the test results don't disappear. The demon really doesn't want me finding out for some reason."

Nathan reached into his pajama pants' pocket and pulled out a small spiral notebook. Inside he'd written what he'd found of Rachel's message in _A Dark Night_. He thought he had most of it now, but he wasn't having any luck working with it on the computer. So, he'd switched mediums. Next up was Scrabble tiles.

"I just wish I knew what it wanted," Rachel whispered. "What his endgame is. What's he's doing with Sam and the other kids."

"What would he want a bunch of psychic kids for?" Nathan asked. He frowned down at what he'd written: _back, wants, not, with, brought, baby, j, n, d, e, n, h, m, o_ and _o_.

"Depending on how many there are, I guess create an army."

Nathan snorted. "Well, two of them are dead. Two of them went psycho with their powers, and considering how power corrupts, I don't think they're the only ones."

"That's why Sam can't develop his powers. Dean was right. John was right. They're dark. They're evil."

_Brought baby_ didn't make sense. _Baby back_ did, if you were talking about ribs. There were enough letters for demon, which just left…

And suddenly, Nathan saw it.

He swallowed. "Rach? Didn't you say you guys thought John made some sort of deal with this thing for Dean?"

She sniffed wetly. "Um, yeah. Best we can tell is John traded his life for Dean's."

"To bring Dean back."

"Yeah."

The sun was warm on Nathan's back. Sweat beaded on his upper lip, but he felt cold. His stomach had contracted into a knot.

_Demon brought back John. Baby._

"You don't make an army out of a bunch of power-hungry, psycho kids," he whispered. 

"What? Nathan?"

"A bunch of power-hungry psycho kids won't let themselves be led. He's not making an army. He's…" 

The phone was ripped from his hand. "Sorry, princess. Nathan's a little busy right now."

Nathan looked up into yellow eyes.

They were the last things he saw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I intentionally named the book after "Dark Knight", but I came up with the title so long ago, I don't remember. I was excited when I recently found [this](http://www.amazon.com/The-Dark-Knight-Elizabeth-Elliott/dp/0553575678/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1346902436&sr=8-2&keywords=a+dark+knight), though, but didn't end up buying it.


	9. Chapter 9

Rachel didn't snore. Dean had been with girls who snored before, and it was awkward. It wasn't like he was Mr. Commitment; sharing a bed with someone snoring like a buzz-saw was strangely domestic for his tastes.

But, luckily, she didn't snore.

She did drool, though, which was at equal times disgusting and endearing. She'd curl up on her side, arm stretched under her head, mouth open, drool leaking from the corner of her mouth. Usually right on to him, which was pretty gross, but it wasn't like he wasn't used to her bodily fluids on him.

Okay, now that was gross.

Point was, when she drooled, she was pretty out of it. It took loud noises, some shaking, and copious amounts of coffee to get her up once she was drooling. So he knew it was safe carefully extract himself from her embrace and slide out of bed.

She didn't stir.

Dean let out a long breath and looked down at her. She looked awful. Her skin was drawn and tight from too much stress and not enough sleep. Her eyes were puffy and painful looking; her nails were chewed and torn. 

It'd been a rough few days. Right up there with when Dad died. When she'd gone missing.

They never seemed to catch a break.

Dean didn't dare kiss her; she needed sleep. So did he, but he couldn’t. He wasn't even ready to try. Only reason he'd gotten into bed was to get Rachel to sleep; staying up over forty-eight hours couldn't be good for her. Or the baby, demon or not.

He brushed his hand over her hair, barely touching, then turned away from the bed.

Rachel's parents had sprung for the hotel, getting a room for themselves and another for Rachel, Sam, and Dean. It was a nice place, more upscale than they stayed at even when Rachel paid. Their room had a separate living area and bedroom, with a fold out couch in the living area. It was pulled out and made up, but Sam hadn't used it. He hadn't even come inside since they'd gotten back from the hospital. 

Dean shrugged on his jacket and went outside. They were on the second floor; the rooms opened out onto a walkway overlooking the parking lot. The Impala was parked below, the space next to it empty. Janet was staying at the hospital with Nathan overnight and had kept the rented car.

Sam was sitting on the back of the Impala. He gazed off into the distance with an awful, hollow-look on his face. 

Dean knew that look. He hated that look. It was the look on Dad's face the night after Mom died. It was the look on Sam's face for months after Jess. It was the expression Dean knew he'd worn after Dad, and then again after Rachel had disappeared. It was the look Dean would give anything not to see on his baby brother's face, but here it was. Again.

Dean walked down the cold stairs, then the even colder sidewalk. Without a word, he climbed onto to the trunk with Sam. Sat, close enough to share his warmth, even as his bare toes turned to ice.

Sam let out a long, slow sigh. "They wouldn't let me see him."

He glanced over.

"They wouldn't tell me what was going on. The paramedics wouldn't let me ride with him. They just… I don't know why I said he was my boyfriend. I should have said he was family, l but I didn't. I said…" He bit his bottom lip and shook his head.

"Well," Dean said after a moment. "You were panicking. And, let's face it: he's your boyfriend. Don't matter what game the two of you have been playing all these months, saying it was just fooling around or whatever. You and Nathan are together. And he was hurting. You said the truth."

He shook his head. "Dean, what the hell am I doing with a boyfriend?"

Dean opened his mouth, wisecrack ready, but Sam cut him off. "I'm serious. What am I doing with anyone? You were right. We're cursed. We don't belong with anyone. Everyone we fall for winds up dead. Or raped. Or…" He swallowed. "You were right."

He closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear this. Didn't want to be reminded of his worst fears. It was too late for him; he was stuck. There wasn't any way in hell he would leave Rachel. He couldn't. And it didn't have anything to do with the demon or what had happened to her or anything. Dean had been screwed the minute he'd pulled Rachel off her feet on the side of the road leading to Plumtree with the haunted picture. Had been screwed by the look in her eyes, the way his heart had seemed to stop beating and how his breath had been too loud in his ears. 

When the Rawhide had nearly killed him, she'd been the only person outside of his family he'd wanted to talk to. When the Devas had ripped him up, it'd been her voice he'd needed to hear. She'd been the last coherent thought he'd had before the truck had rammed into the Impala, and he'd never been as relieved to see anyone as her when he'd woken up in the hospital.

He wouldn't trade it in now. He couldn't wish her away; he was too selfish. 

That didn't mean Sam wasn't right.

"You've been happy," Dean finally whispered.

Sam closed his eyes. His forehead wrinkled, eyes squinched, like he was trying not to cry. "Dean, his eyes were burned out. If he hadn't been with me…"

"You don't know that."

"Right," he said bitterly. "Let's face it, Dean. Rachel and Nathan's lives would be a lot better without us."

His stomach dropped. He didn't want to hear this. For the past year, Sam had been telling him over and over that he deserved happiness, that he deserved love, that he deserved Rachel. And, while Dean hadn't exactly parroted the same sentiments back to Sam because he had been a bit weirded out that Sam had hooked up with a guy, well. He'd been happy. That's all Dean had ever wanted: Sam to be happy.

But nothing ever worked out for them, did it? 

"What do we do, Sam? You saying we should just leave them? Pack up right now and take off?" 

"No. No, that's not…" His face just crumpled, and he covered it with his hands. His shoulders shook. He didn't make a sound.

Dean rubbed his forehead. The headache that had been threatening was starting to move in. He needed to sleep. He needed a drink.

"I'm going to get my shoes," Dean said, sliding off the car. "And we're going to go for a drink."

"Dean…"

"I'll be right back." Dean made his way across the parking lot again, careful to avoid a pile of broken glass near the sidewalk. His footsteps were silent as he mounted the stairs and slipped back inside the motel room.

Rachel was completely buried under the covers with all the pillows pulled around her. The only part visible was her hair, peeking from underneath the blankets.

Dean pulled on his shoes. "Rach," he said softly, climbing onto the bed. He pulled the blankets back from her head. "Rachel."

She groaned. "What?"

He kissed her softly. "Sam and me are going for a drink."

"Really?" She blinked her eyes open and rubbed at them. "You're going to a bar?"

"I don't know what else to do. He's really upset." And this was the Winchester way, he wanted to add. 

She rubbed her eyes again. "No. It's fine. Just… I don't know." She yawned. "Be safe. And don't disappear. Don't let him disappear."

He smiled. Bent down and kissed her softly. "I won't."

Rachel's hands fisted in his shirt. She kissed him back, harder, lips clinging to his.

"Get some sleep," Dean whispered. He pressed his lips into her forehead. Stroked her hair.

"Don't stay out too long." 

He kissed her again, laying her down as he did. As she closed her eyes, he pulled the covers over her. He watched carefully as her face relaxed, sliding back into sleep. Then he straightened and headed back outside.

Sam was sitting silently in the passenger's seat. He stayed silent during the drive.

There was a bar close to the place they were staying. It looked a little run down and grungy, but that was fine. It wasn't like they were looking for a place to party.

They found an empty booth, table stop sticky and grungy, and ordered a bottle of Jack. Dean watched as Sam downed two glasses, barely taking a breath in between. He poured a third, then sat, looking at it.

Dean's shoulders tensed in anticipation.

"In college, there was this guy. A friend. Brady." He lifted his glass and took a large swallowed. "We were really close. He was, like, my best friend. We met spring semester of my freshman year in some bullshit class. We just hit it off." 

Dean had no idea where this was going, so he stayed silent. Just finished his poured and poured another, waiting.

"Right before Spring Break our sophomore year, we were studying together. And then we took a break and were watching a movie or whatever. Just sitting next to each other, drinking beer, just doing nothing, and I realized that I'd never felt as comfortable with anyone as I did with him. Except for you, but it was different. And, I don’t know, we somehow kept moving closer to each other until our sides were pressed together. Everything was warm, but it wasn't uncomfortable or anything. And then, um, Brady asked if I'd ever been attracted to guys." He gulped down his whiskey.

"Have you?" asked Dean.

Sam shook his head. "No. I mean… I don't know. I never thought about it. Growing up like we did, our lives were so crazy, all I wanted was to be normal. Every place we stopped, I just wanted everyone to think I was like them, you know? Normal was being into girls. I wouldn't have dared think of a guy like that."

"So, what'd you say to your friend?"

"The truth. Well, just that I hadn't thought about it. I asked him if he was. He said that he never really had been, but now he wasn't sure. So I looked at him, right, and he was looking at me and… and it was like time had just stopped. Like there was nothing else in the world but him and me and where we touched and… I don't know how to explain it."

Dean thought again of when he'd grabbed Rachel on the side of the road. How he'd forgotten everything but her eyes and mouth and the way her skin felt in his hands.

He cleared his throat. "I know what you mean."

Sam's eyes flicked up to his, then back down at his empty glass. "Nothing happened between us. I think we were going to kiss, but my roommate came back. Everything got uncomfortable, and Brady left. When he came back from Spring Break, he wasn't the same. He just went totally off the rails, drinking and partying and drugs. But then he, uh, introduced me to Jess. And, like, every moment was like that with her, so I just thought… drunken night."

"But then you met Nathan and, what? You realized you were into guys?"

He poured himself another whiskey. Downed it in one gulp. "Nathan was different. I mean, he's just relentless. When we met, he was half-naked from fooling around with some waitress. And still flirting with me." His eyes got far away and lips turned up in a small smile. "He was wearing eyeliner."

"He was wearing eyeliner the other day."

Sam blushed deeply. "Yeah, um." He cleared his throat. "But, with him, it's not like Jess or anyone else. I mean, when we met, I didn't know I was attracted to him. I still don't know when I started to be into him. But after the lust spell, I realized I was. But, that I had been. Before that. For awhile before that." His voice caught, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Dean cleared his throat. He couldn't believe he was asking this, but he had to know because it'd been obvious that Sam had been into Nathan, and yet… "So, why'd you move so slow? Glaciers move faster than the two of you."

Sam laughed bitterly, his mouth twisting. "I was being cautious. Because it was new. Because it's the first time I've felt like this since Jess, and I didn't know if Nathan wanted something like that. He's just so flaky, and I don't know how to be with a guy. And he's Rachel's brother, so it was even more complicated, but… God, we finally started moving forward and now…" He shook his head. Picked up the bottle and took a drink straight from it. "Now it's all over."

"You don't know that, Sam. I mean, maybe he still wants…"

"Well, it doesn't matter, does it?" Sam said, slamming the bottle down. His eyes met Dean's, bright with unshed tears. "What he wanted, what I wanted. His eyes were burned out. He's blind. That's… that's… his whole life has changed and he has to learn everything over, and it's not like we're just going to be able to stay while he learns it all." He shook his head and raised the bottle again. "Not that he'd want me around," he muttered into the bottle before drinking.

Dean sighed. He wanted to say that they could stay. Give up hunting, at least for awhile. Help Nathan however they could. Let Sam continue to be happy.

But Rachel's due date loomed kind of like a death sentence. When that baby came, Dean knew the demon was gonna come with it. Come for whatever reason it'd taken her. And Dean would bet anything that's when it'd make its move on Sammy, too.

They only had a few months. They couldn't to wait around. Not for anyone.

He got up and went to the bar to order a beer. And another bottle of Jack. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

"Oh, fucking Christ," Rachel heard Dean groan in the bedroom.

She sighed, smiling wryly. "There's aspirin on the nightstand," she called through the open bathroom door. She narrowed her eyes at her reflection at the mirror. Ran her hands over her stomach.

It had to be her imagination. She couldn't have grown a bump that quickly. Okay, the past few days were kind of fuzzy what with the frantic cross-country dash to get to Nathan, but she knew that there hadn't been this big a bump at her doctor visit. Even a demon baby couldn't grow that fast. Right?

"Please come in here and kill me," Dean called.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "You don't deserve to be killed. You're the one who thought it'd be a good idea to get drunk." She wrapped a towel around her and went into the other room.

Dean looked terrible. Dark circles under his eyes, ashy skin, the works. "How much did I drink?" He fell back against the pillows and flung his arm over his eyes.

"I think you drank the whole bar." She climbed onto the bed. Cuddled up against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. "And then you got into a fight with the bartender when he tried to take your keys. Sam finally got them from you and gave them up. And then you called me and proceeded to go on a tirade about stupid ass bartenders and stupid ass laws and stupid ass brothers. You didn't stop until my taxi pulled up, at which point you tried to maul me against the wall of the bar."

He winced. "Is it my fault your hot?"

She rolled her eyes. "And then you sang Stairway to Heaven all the way back, even though we were listening to the Metallica. And it took about fifteen minutes for me to get you upstairs and into bed. I have never seen you that drunk before."

"Sam needed to talk." He pushed himself up. Scrubbed his hands over his face.

"I'm not angry at you," she said, sitting up, too. "Well, a little; you know much I hate being woken up. But I'm not going to get mad if you go out and get drunk once in awhile. I know how hard this job is, and, believe me, I wish I could have joined you last night."

Dean looked at her, giving her a crooked smile. "They didn't have any of your fruity mixed drinks there, sweetheart."

She got onto her knees and moved closer. "Unlike you, I'm not averse to driving until we find a place with fruity drinks. And mops their floor once in awhile." She kissed him lightly. "You okay now?"

"Besides the hangover?"

"Yeah."

He sighed. Closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. "I'm not the one to worry about." Her threaded his fingers through her hair.

"Well, Sam's not here for me to coddle."

"What?" He pulled away.

"He left a few hours ago. There's a note. He's at the hospital." She threaded their fingers. "He's not bolting."

"I wouldn't be so confident about that. He's really messed up over this."

"So am I." Tears rose to her eyes, which were already red and burning.

Dean moved back to her. Wrapped his arms around her. "Nathan's going to be fine," he said. He sounded like he believed what he was saying. "Your brother is tough. He'll get through this."

"I know he will. I'm just, you know." A few tears slipped out; she wiped them away, face scrunching as she tried to stop them from falling. "I think it's my fault."

"It's not."

"The demon told me to stop trying to figure all this out. He told me, but I keep looking. And Nathan and I were talking. I told him about the DNA test. And then he said something about the kids like Sam, and then he was there. On the phone." Tears fell faster. "And Nathan started screaming."

Keeping an arm around her, Dean reached and grabbed the tissue from the nightstand. "It's not like you told Nathan who the father was. If it this was about that, then why wasn't it my eyes? Or Dr. Flynn's? And Dad found out about Sam. His eyes weren't taken out."

"No, but he's dead."

Dean shrugged one shoulder, looking uncomfortable. "Yeah, but, that's probably 'cause he made a deal to bring me back for some reason. I mean, I was at death's door, right?"

Rachel reached up and stroked her fingers down his jaw. "If he made a deal, it's because he loves you. Loved you."

"Or it's because he knew he could never kill Sam and thought I could."

"No." She straddled his lap and put her arms around him. "Dean, no. You are his son. He loved you more than anything." She lifted his chin so he'd look at her. "No father wants to outlive his children. He'd lost too much; he wouldn't have been able to live after losing you."

Dean's eyes were bright, but he blinked rapidly, chasing tears away. He wouldn't meet her eyes. "What do you know?" he said, voice rough. "You only knew him a few hours."

"I know. But it was obvious." She gave him a little smile. "Well. At least to an outside observer."

"Is it just me, or is my family only understandable to an outside observer?"

She laughed. "I think most families are like that." She wiped her eyes again. "So. You wanna wash up so we can go to the hospital?"

He closed his eyes, groaning, and let his head fall against hers. "I hate hospitals." He ran his fingers through her wet hair.

"I know. And I guess you don't have to go, only Sam took your car and I figured you'd want to keep an eye on it."

"And Sam. I don't trust him not to run off."

"You really think he'd leave Nathan?"

He sighed and pulled back. "I got the feeling last night that Sam thinks Nathan's gonna want him gone. And even if Nathan doesn’t…"

"That Sam's going to turn into you and insist he can't be with anyone."

"Is he wrong? I mean…" He didn't finish his sentence, just reached for her stomach and caressed it. His eyes widened. "Holy crap, is that a bump?"

Rachel groaned. "No," she whined, head falling back. "That's way too fast, right?" She slid off Dean's lap and dropped the towel wrapped around her. "I was hoping it was my imagination." She looked down. Her breasts had grown larger in the past few weeks, but she couldn’t tell if they'd grown again overnight. But, looking down over them, she could definitely see a bump.

"I have no idea how fast is too fast," Dean said. He lay his hand flat against the bump, eyes wide and wondering. "Jesus, this is weird."

"Why? Because there's a demon in there?"

He looked up. "It's just, you know. The first time I've seen this happening up close. Never thought about doing this."

"You never thought about having a family? You."

"I thought about having a family. I thought about being married. I never thought about the actual pregnancy."

She sighed and sat down. "Yeah. Me neither." She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes as tears threatened yet again. "I wish it hadn't happened this way. Then maybe I wouldn't feel this panic clawing at me all the time."

Dean came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Rested his chin on her shoulder. "What should I do?"

Rachel shook her head. Her arms dropped, hands covering Dean. She leaned back against him and closed her eyes. "Promise that you won't run away. Or get disgusted because of what's inside me." Her voice caught. "Promise that you won't stop loving me."

His arms tightened around her. His mouth pressed against her hair. "Never," he whispered, kissing her cheek. "Never."


	10. Chapter 10

Sam sat in a chair next to Nathan's bed. Well, recliner. There was a fucking recliner in Nathan's room, which seemed more like a hotel room than a hospital. A recliner for visitors and several more comfortable-looking chairs; cable TV, a phone, even connection to the internet. There was a private bathroom, too, with a tub. The walls were a pale green instead of institutional beige and everything had a strange feeling of comfort.

It made it worse, somehow. At least when hospital rooms were sterile and vaguely unwelcoming, it wasn't so jarring to see someone lying in bed hooked up to life saving machines.

Nathan's still, pale body, was almost obscene. Not just because of the homey atmosphere, but because… because Nathan was motion. He was energy and movement. He grinned and danced around, fingers snapping or stroking Sam's arm or Rachel's hair. He vibrated with energy. With life.

Just like Jessica had.

And now, he was just laying there, bandage wrapped around his head, covering his eyes. Well, where his eyes used to be. His eye sockets.

Christ. His eyes had been so damaged, they'd had to be removed. Sam had no idea what was behind those bandages right now; he knew that Chris had told him yesterday, but Sam just couldn't seem to hang on to information right now. He just kept replaying what had happened.

Nathan had gone outside. Sam and Dean had been talking. Then Nathan had just started screaming. Piercing, pain-filled screams that had Sam off the bed and out the door before he really understood what was going on.

He hadn't been able to process what it was he was seeing. Smoke and blood had been coming out of his eyes and he'd been rolling on the ground by the car, screaming. He'd flinched from Sam's touch, so out of it with pain and fear, he hadn't known him.

People had come out of their motel rooms, but no one knew what to do. All Sam could do was pull Nathan's head into his lap, stroke his hair, and try to calm him down. Everyone else stood around them, waiting for an ambulance. Sam still didn't know who'd called 911.

The only thing he remembered clearly after that was the moment he tried to get into the ambulance with them.

"Whoa," one of the paramedics had said, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder. "You can't come with us."

"What? I have to. That's my boyfriend." The words had just slipped out. He hadn't even thought about it. He couldn’t think.

The paramedic made a face. "Yeah, well. Sorry, kid. You're not going with us. Family only." Then he climbed into the ambulance, and they'd taken off.

Nathan shifted. His face scrunched, and he let out a soft moan. "Mom?"

Sam sat forward. "No. It's me."

"Sam?" He turned his face toward Sam.

A lump rose to Sam's throat. He swallowed it back. "Yeah. Your mom went back to the hotel to pick up your dad. And Rachel and Dean. She'll be back."

Nathan licked his lips. Wrinkled his nose. "Can I have some water?"

"Yeah." Sam got up. There was a pitcher and cup on the table at the end of the bed. He poured some. "Here."

He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth raising slightly. There was a flush on his cheeks. "I, uh. Can you put it in my hands?"

Sam's cheeks warmed, too. He moved closer to Nathan. Sat on the bed and put the cup into his hands. Then he helped guide it to Nathan's mouth.

"Thanks."

"No problem." He set the cup down. "How do you feel?" Sam couldn't help it. He reached out and brushed Nathan's hair off his forehead. Off the bandages.

"Fuzzy," Nathan answered after a moment.

"They've got you on something. To keep you calm."

Nathan nodded. Lay back on the bed. "Yeah, the doctor said yesterday." He reached up and touched the edge of the bandage. "They ache. I mean, I know it's the muscles or whatever, not my eyes, but they hurt."

"Do you want me to call a nurse?"

He shook his head. 

Sam's finger twitched. He clenched his hands to stop himself from reaching out and taking Nathan's hands. Clenched them until his nails started digging painfully into his skin. But he kept himself from reaching out. If he was going to go through with this, he had to be strong.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Nathan's brow furrowed above the bandage. "No. I've been trying, but I can't. The last thing I remember was crawling into your lap. And then waking up not being able to see." He reached out, hand flailing. He managed to find Sam's arm. Slid down to his hand. He didn't seem disturbed by the fact it was balled into a fist; he just covered it with his own and rubbed his thumb on Sam's wrist. "The doctor said it's normal for trauma patients to forget the moment of trauma. And, while I might remember, there's a chance I won't. But it's just… I don't think the demon wiped my memory or anything."

Sam lost the battle. He relaxed his hand. Turned it over in Nathan's. His hand was so much bigger than Nathan's, he was almost able to completely cover it. "I don't really care that it might not have wiped your memory. He blinded you."

"Yeah, I know." His mouth pressed into a thin line. Trembled.

"Shhh." Sam shifted so he was sitting next to Nathan. He looped an arm around him. 

"I don't even know if I can cry." Nathan gasped, then took some deep breaths. When he spoke again, his voice was steadier. "I mean, I can cry. Just, you know; they just did surgery and I've got this stupid bandage around my eyes. I don't know if tears will come out."

Sam kissed him on his forehead. "I'm so sorry."

Nathan leaned against him. "Sam, it wasn't your fault."

He stayed quiet.

"It wasn't. You didn't do this. You didn't make the demon do it."

"If you hadn't been with me…"

"I'm with you because you're hanging out with my sister."

"Who's hurt because of me."

Nathan's forehead wrinkled, then he winced. "God, my face is sore." He moved closer to Sam and pressed his lips into the nearest body part, which happened to be Sam's shoulder. "You are not responsible for what the demon does. And, seriously, letting it win by allowing it to dictate your life may be cliché, but it's true. You can't not do things because you're afraid of reprisal."

"Except, it's not me it's reprising against. It's the people I…I care about." His throat tightened. He didn't love Nathan, wasn't in love with him, not by any stretch of the imagination. Everything was still too new, and Sam didn't wasn't even sure of his sexuality to go around declaring anything like that. But he did care about Nathan; he was family. "Not just you," he pressed on. "But Dean. Rachel." He swallowed. "Jess."

"Well, this is war."

"But if I'm the target, why is it hurting everyone but me?" Then he bit his lip, remembering. Remembering how Rachel had hypothesized that the demon was trying to get Sam to use his powers by hurting Dean. But making Sam have romantic thoughts about Rachel. Maybe by killing Jess.

He let go of Nathan and slid off the bed.

Nathan sat up. "Sam, don't be stupid. You're allowed to care for people."

"I don't want you to end up pinned to the ceiling burning to death."

"I think it would have killed me if that's what it wanted. Damn thing took my life anyway." His voice was bitter, face turning to a thundercloud.

Pressure built behind Sam's eyes. His throat ached. "Nate…"

Behind him, the door opened and nurse came in. "Good morning, Nathan. I'm Sharon, the floor nurse. I need to check your vitals. Um… if your guest could just step outside."

"Sam, wait. Don't leave."

"I'll be just outside."

"Sam…"

"I'll be back when she's done. I promise." He fled before Nathan could say anything else.

Sam leaned against the wall and tried to catch his breath. His heart was pounding because, dammit, what was it going to take for this to stop? He tried to leave; Dean hadn't let him. He tried to figure out his powers, which now Dean said was definitely a very bad idea. He'd tried not getting involved with anyone but, hey, Sam was human and Nathan had been very willing.

He closed his eyes. Banged the back of his head against the wall. "What the hell do you want from me?" he asked.

His phone rang.

"Hello?" Sam answered without opening his eyes. He half-hoped it was the demon with his list of demands.

"Hey, Sam, it's Ash. Did, uh, did Jo meet up with you and Nathan?"

"What?"

"Jo. She said she was going to go out to Philadelphia and do that hunt. She set it all up, is having me run interference with Ellen. But she didn't check in and Ellen's starting to get suspicious."

"Did you call her?"

"She's not answering her phone."

Well, that was just great. "Nathan and I didn't make it. The demon got us." He explained what happened, headache building with each word.

Ash was silent for a long moment. Then, he summed it all up elegantly with, "Well, shit, man."

"Yeah." Sam opened his eyes. "Okay, I'll talk to Dean and figure out what to do. We'll call you back. Try and hold Ellen off for another hour or so. And keep trying Jo. And find out where her cell phone is. That might help."

"Ten fore, Winchester. Tell Nathan… Tell Nathan I owe him a beer or ten."

"Yeah, okay." He hung up on Nathan and started to dial Dean when Sharon the nurse appeared. 

"You can go back in," she said. "I just gave him another dose of Versed, so he's probably not going to be a very good conversationalist. Just…try not to upset him, okay?" She gave him a look that made Sam feel about two feet tall.

"Um, okay." He waited until she'd gone into the room of her next patient, then went back into Nathan's room.

Nathan was sitting up, head lolling on the raised back of the bed. He was flicking through the channels on the television so fast the image hardly had time to come on, let alone the sound.

"Hey." Sam sat on the bed again.

"Hey. If you're going to break up with me, you should probably leave a note or something." He wrinkled his nose. "Or tell my parents."

"I don’t know what I want to do," Sam said honestly. "I mean, in the long run, it'd probably be better if we went our separate ways."

"Better for me?"

"For both of us. And, yeah. For you." He took Nathan's hand. "I just want you safe. All of you safe."

"It's too late for that."

He sighed. Nodded. "Yeah, I know." He squeezed Nathan's hand. "So, Jo's missing. She went to Philadelphia to work the serial killer ghost."

Nathan frowned. "Wasn't it taking young blondes?"

"Yeah."

"Crap." 

The door opened. "What's this about Jo missing?" Dean asked.

"Hey, Dean. Rachel, you there?" Nathan said.

"I’m here. How are you?"

"Drugged."

Rachel came to his side and kissed him on the forehead. Then she sat and looked at Sam. "Ash texted me. He said he talked to you?"

"Yeah." Sam tilted his head. "Is that a baby bump?"

She blushed deep red and tugged at her shirt self-consciously. "I need to go shopping."

Nathan reached for her, his hand brushing over her shoulder and then breast before she grabbed it and placed it on her stomach. "It's just bigger than it was. Not, like, kicking or anything." She glanced at Dean. "You going to go get Jo?"

He tilted his head. "You okay with staying?"

She nodded. "The doctor said Nathan will be well enough to go home tomorrow. You two could get her and then meet up with us in Hartford."

Dean glanced at Sam. "You okay with that?"

"Uh…" He looked at Nathan, uncertain.

Nathan waved his free hand. "Go. It'll stop us from having the inevitable, 'It's not you, it's me,' conversation until I'm not as drugged, and it'll stop me from worrying about my sister's future girlfriend."

"Hey!" Dean protested.

"Excuse me. Wanna-be girlfriend. Whatever. Anyway, you got people to save, and I've got enucleation surgery to recover from."  
Sam looked at Dean, then nodded. "So, we'll met you in Hartford."

"Sounds like a plan." Rachel got up. Went to Dean and pushed him across the room. Into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

"Did they just leave?" Nathan asked.

"Saying goodbye."

"Ah." He licked his lips. "Are we going to say goodbye?"

Sam's heart gave a funny lurch. He moved next to Nathan. Slid his hand behind Nathan's neck and tugged him closer.

Their lips met. Once. Again, deeper. Sam caressed Nathan's lower lip with his tongue, then pressed inside when Nathan opened for him.

They were breathing heavily when they broke apart. Sam rested his forehead against Nathan's and closed his eyes. "Goodbye."


	11. Chapter 11

_"I'm sorry! I didn't know what else to do!" he shouted. There were tears in his eyes as he stood at the bottom of the porch._

_It was raining. Rachel was soaked, even though she stood at the top of the stairs, covered by the porch. There was a blanket wrapped around her, but she still shivered. Water dripped from her hair and into her eyes._

_She could feel scratches all over her skin, like she'd been running through brush. Her bare feet were stinging, too, and her sprained ankle throbbed._

_She knew she was dreaming, knew this was a memory. If she concentrated, Rachel could almost remember what came before this: climbing out the window, running desperately through the woods surrounding the cabin. Remembered a heavy body crashing into hers, fighting to get away. Being pinned as she struggled, a voice panting in her ear, begging her to stop, just stop._

_And she finally had. He'd carried her back, set on the porch. She's said something, and now…_

_He rubbed his eyes. "I didn't know what else to do."_

_"I know," she whispered. She licked her lips and said it louder. "I know, I get it."_

_"No, you don't. You don't know what it's like down there. What they do. Every day, they take me apart piece by piece, but I stand it because…" His voice cracked. He shook his head. Looked away. "And he was gonna, um. He was going to make me watch you die. Watch Dean find you. Your body." He shook his head again, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. "It would have been worse than being on the rack."_

_She went one step down. "Well, what's this going to do to him?" Her hands tightened in the blanket folds. "You're… We're… And a baby! Seriously, you're asking me to make him raise a demon?"_

_He raised his hands to his face. "He's already lost so much. And Azazel promised you'd be fine." He dropped his hands again. "He promised…"_

_"Azazel is a demon." She began to tremble and not from the cold._

_"I know. I know, little girl, but you're strong enough to be okay." He walked over to her. Stayed on the ground, but reached up. Gripped her by the arms. "I saw it. The first time I saw you, I saw it." His face crumbled. "That's what got us into this mess, and I am so Goddamn sorry."_

Rachel opened her eyes, dream fading. She looks fearfully around her, expecting to see the demon looming over her. Ready to punish her for remembering something, remembering more of what happened, even though she hadn't meant to.

But there was no one but Nathan. He was propped up in his bed, I-Pod earbuds in his ears, air drumming so quickly, his fists were almost a blur. The music was loud enough for her to hear it.

She leaned over and pulled out one of the earbuds. Green Day's _American Idiot_ poured out. "What, are you trying to go deaf, too?"

"Yup!" But he reached for the I-Pod and shut it off. "You're snoring was bugging me."

"I don't snore."

"Yeah, you do."

"I was subjected to a ten minute monologue about how grateful Dean was that I don't snore, what snoring means in terms of domesticity, and the great superiority of drooling to snoring just last night. Don't try and tell me I snore."

Nathan tilted his head. "Dean prefers drooling to snoring?"

"Dean was stinking blind drunk last night. As was Sam, but he wasn't nearly as verbose. He's kind of a quiet drunk."

"He wouldn’t have been if I was there." Then Nathan frowned, his whole face going dark. He sighed.

Rachel reached out and took Nathan's hand. Squeezed it.

Nathan sighed heavily. "I think he's been scared off. He was starting the whole 'we shouldn't be together for your safety' speech before Ash called about Jo." His mouth crimped. 

"You don't actually have to listen to that speech. I didn't."

"Yeah, but you could see. And Dean was the one in the hospital bed. I've got a weaker position than you did."

"I guess. But, it's not like Sam's going to hook up with someone else. He cares about you. And he'll be around, sometimes. You can work on him then."

"Why would he be around?"

"Because I'll be around."

Nathan shook his head. "Uh-uh. No. No way."

"No way what?"

"You had it all planned. You were going to find someplace to live that wasn't around Mom and Dad and help Dean and hunt and all that."

"You need me."

Nathan's head fell back against the bed. He banged it a few times. "Don't do this to me, Rachel."

"What do you mean?"

"When you went missing, I took off. I avoided you for days, and now you're here, ready to give up everything you wanted. Don't."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okay, first off, you didn't take off until I was found. And, yeah, it sucked, but you also found my clothes and everything. You were trying to help me. Second, it's not like I had any firm plans. I still don't know where I want to stay."

"You can still hunt. Or at least research."

"Yeah, but the traveling thing." She shook her head. "People's lives depend on us getting places quickly. And being pregnant means lots of bathroom breaks and back aches and… I don't know if I want to do it." Rachel bit her lip, then said, "Besides. Staying at home for awhile will give me time to go through our library. There's a lot stuff on demons no one has looked at for years."

"What about Bobby's library?"

"I'll hit that next. I'm not saying I'll stay in Hartford forever. Just until I'm sure you're okay."

His mouth twists bitterly. "Until you stop feeling guilty, you mean."

She squeezed his hand. "Nate, you're my little brother. It's my job to take care of you. Of course I'd feel guilty. I would have no matter what."

Nathan turned his hand over in hers. Squeezed it back. "Rachel, what were we talking about? Right before it did this?"

"I really can't remember."

"You are such a liar."

"I know. But I'm done risking you guys. All of you."

"So, that's it? You're just going to accept this?"

She shook her head. "No."

Nathan let out a long, slow breath. "So I did figure out something?"

"Yeah, but, um. What you figured out? I don't think it's what we were talking about. Because…" Her abdomen suddenly contracted. She doubled over, grabbing it.

"Rachel?"

Her entire body thrummed in awareness. Her limbs were light, like fill with bubbles instead of blood, and her head spun.

"I'll be back," she said, trying to sound normal but falling on the wrong side of breathless.

"What's wrong?"

"Nathan, I'm fine. I swear." She got up and kissed his cheek. "Listen to your music."

"But…"

"Dad's coming back in a few minutes. Tell him I went to the bathroom." She turned and fled from the room.

She was halfway down the hall when the world swirled darkly around her. She stumbled.

"Whoa, Princess." A hand wrapped around her arm and tugged her back to her feet. "What's the rush?"

Rachel swallowed. Her stomach was clenched in a painful cramp. She looked up.

The yellow eyed demon gazed back down at her, an almost pleasant smile on his face. "You're not trying to run away from me, are you?"

She clenched her jaw and glared up at him.

The demons seemed to find this amusing. His smile deepened. He pushed her back, crowding in on her with his body, forcing her back until she hit a wall.

Her abdomen contracted again. Reflexively, she took a deep breath, her eyes falling close. As she let it out, some of the tightness eased. The spinning in her head slowed. She still felt full of bubbles, fizzy, but the pain was fading.

"Yeah, sorry about that," the demon said, not sounding sorry at all. "Little side effect."

"What did you do to me?" Rachel opened her eyes.

His smile deepened. He ran his eyes over her body and then licked his lips. "I know you don't remember the details, darlin', but…" He nuzzled her, his nose pressed up in the space behind her ear.

She tried to jerk away, but he just followed. "Why can I feel you?" she cut him off impatiently. "Why can I feel Sam? What did you do?"

The demon pressed his hand against her stomach. 

Rachel flinched. Drove her free arm down in a down-block, forearm smacking into his. The shock reverberated up her arm, and she had to bite back her groan of pain.

An invisible force froze her against the wall. She struggled, but her body was stuck. It felt as if something was pressing against her from head to toe, keeping her immobile.

"That's a better," he said. He forced both of her arms behind her back and gathered both wrists in one hand. "Although, I have to admit it, I like it when you fight." He pressed his lips against her unresisting mouth. "And you are a little hellfire. Just like she was. It's why it was so easy to convince him; you remind him of her."

"What are you talking about?" Her body was still frozen; inside the shell, she was straining away from him, every muscle tense and aching.

He smirked. "You're such an inquisitive little thing. You'd think that, after awhile, you'd learn. Your brother's eyes weren't enough?"

Tears pricked in her eyes. "No, it was. They were. Please don't…" She licked her lips. "Why?"

"Why what? His eyes?"

"Yeah."

He shrugged. "He was looking into things he shouldn’t have been. I thought it fitting."

"Was it about the army thing?"

"No. That was just him putting that famous Adams' brain to work. You'd have figured that much out eventually, just like John did. It ain't really a secret anymore. Too many of my kids are coming into their powers now, and some are starting to take notice. No. He lost his eyes because of you."

"What did I do?"

This time, he brushed his mouth over her forehead. "You tried to get clever on me. Left a little secret message in a book. He manage to decode it."

"What? No I didn't."

He tapped his finger against her forehead. "I wiped out everything, tucked it all away in a neat little box until I’m ready for it to come out. But you got a little tricky on me and…" He cut himself off with a wince. Then he grinned. "You got me monologuing."

For some reason, that made tears spring to her eyes. "Did you just quote _The Incredibles_?"

"I've been on Earth awhile. I've had time to kill." He wiped a tear off her face. "So. To put your pretty little mind at ease, I'll tell you a few things. Our bundle of joy ain't gonna kill you, not if you don't do anything to hurt him. No hooves, no horns, no tail, none of the little decorations you've been worried about. It's gonna look human, and it's gonna be born human, no chewing out of your stomach or bursting from your chest or whatever else you're worried about. You just take your vitamins and eat your veggies, and it'll all be fine."

Rachel closed her eyes. Her head spun with relief, and she felt dizzy and sick. Yeah, he was a demon, and she knew he was probably lying, but hearing the words…

"I ain't lying to you, Princess. I've got no reason to kill you off. You just do me this favor, and we're square."

"What about after it's born? What's going to happen to it?"

He caressed her jaw line. "Ah, baby, there's plenty of time to discuss our future later. This is just to lay down some of the rules. Again. So. What have we learned today?"

"Don't ask questions. The baby's not going to kill me. You watch Pixar movies."

"Sounds about right." He wiped another tear that fell from her eye with this thumb. "And, don't worry Princess. You are going to find out whose meat I was wearing to make the magic happen." He pressed against her, sliding his thigh between hers. Pressing up into her.

Rachel ground her teeth together and bit back a whimper.

"Until then, lover, I just wanna leave you with a little something." He lowered his mouth to hers, tongue pressing insistently at the seam of her lips.

She strained to get away from him, but she was still held frozen by his powers. She could feel her abdomen contract, her entire body fizzing with his power, head spinning, the world tilting. She smelled sulfur and fire and sweat and antiseptic and…

"Ma'am, are you okay?" someone asked.

Rachel opened her eyes. She was pressed against the wall across from Nathan's room. Her body was free, the demon was gone.

A nurse was standing in front of her, looking concerned.

"Yeah," she gasped. She smiled shakily through the tears now pouring from her eyes. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just, you know." She gestured at her brother's door.

"Right. I'm sorry." The nurse pat her on the arm and then left.

Rachel slid down the wall. Pulled her legs to her body and wrapped her arms around them.

Okay, so fine. No more questions. No more letting anyone research or look into this. No more secret codes or looking for her journals or computers. She play by his game, at least for now. She had time. She had five months, give or take.

And now, she had his name.

Azazel.


	12. Chapter 12

Phone calls at two in the morning were never good. No one ever called at that time to say they won the lottery or they were getting married or to talk about how beautiful the world was. The only reason anyone ever called was to tell someone else the world was ending. Or someone had disappeared. Or a ghost had just attacked. Or…

"You've been arrested?" Rachel rubbed her eyes, trying to force the sleepy, muzzy-headiness away.

"Don't worry about that part," Dean said. "I'm fine, Sam's fine. It's just a momentary inconvenience. What I need you to do is try to figure out what Dana Shulps is."

"A name? Christ, Dean, you said this job was only going to take a few days, and now you're in jail?"

"Are you nagging me? I've only got another few seconds. And it's not a name. We tried that. And… Okay, so, they're telling me to wrap it up. So, look into it for me?"

"You're in Baltimore, right?" She slid over to the nightstand and jotted down the name. "Do you need bail money?"

"Rach, I'm fine, okay? I mean, they're going after me like gangbusters on account of that shaper shifter crap back in St. Louis, but it'll be good. You good?"

She sighed. Closed her eyes. "I'm fine. Just growing." She slid her hand over her abdomen and pressed against the ever expanding bulge.

"Okay, well, I'm going to go charm these jack holes, and you figure out what's killing everyone."

"Dean…"

"I'll see you soon, babe."

"Yeah," Rachel sighed, admitting defeat. "Love you." She waited until she heard him hang up to do so herself. "Goddamn it." She stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes.

It was just a quick job, Dean had said. They'd rescued Jo, met up with Ellen, gotten them both on a plane back home. But, Sam hadn't wanted to come to Hartford. Oh, he hadn't said it, exactly, but he'd been, in Dean's words, "Acting really itchy and squirmy. Like he needed to pee or something, except he didn't."

Sam didn't want to have to face Nathan. Dean was all about enabling his brother, so he'd found a mysterious murder in Baltimore, swearing up and down that it'd just be this job, and then they'd both be back. 

And now they were both arrested. It was just kind of they lives right now.

Well, the Winchester brother's lives. Rachel had, heretofore lived in a world where she could sleep through the night.

One more deep sigh, and she slid out of bed. Living in the main house hadn't worked out very well this time. Her room felt small. Confined. Her parents were just down the hall, and she wasn't used to them being around anymore. Every mood she made, she was convinced her parents could hear her. If she needed a snack in the middle of the night, she knew her parents would ask why and if she was okay. 

And they did. She was, after all, pregnant with a demon baby. But she was also an adult and she got irritated by having them ask all the time.

So, a few days before, her mom had suggested she try living in the pool house. Which was almost like having her own house. One bedroom, one bathroom, a living room, and kitchen. There was a foldout couch in the living room, a queen-sized bed in the bedroom, and all the amenities necessary. It even had its own supernatural library.

The decorations weren't exactly to her tastes. Nathan had moved out here his last couple years of high school. He'd been going through his Quentin Tarantino obsession period, so Pulp Fiction, True Romance, Reservoir Dogs poster and pictures and movie stills and framed tee-shirts hung on every wall. Rachel kept thinking about taking everything down and packing it up, except that it was Nathan's stuff, stuff he couldn't see anymore, because of her. Even though he hadn't even lived here for years, it felt like it might be a kind of betrayal if she did.

Living on the road had taught Rachel to be packed and ready to go in fifteen minutes. Having only one pair of pants that fit cut that packing time down to ten. She also grabbed a couple books about Baltimore and anagrams from the bookshelf before heading into the main house.

"Oh," she said, startled by the person sitting at the kitchen table. "Nate. I didn't think you'd be up."

Nathan shrugged. He was sitting at the kitchen table in his pajamas and robe. There were still bandages wrapped around his head, protecting his eye sockets. "My sleep schedule is all messed up. I made coco." He held up his mug. "Mom left it out for me, just in case. What are you doing up?"

"Um. They got arrested." No need to specify which they. 

He just nodded. Stirred his coco. " So you're rushing off to the rescue? What, they need bail?" His voice wasn't exactly bitter. Just… flat. Hollow.

She went to the table and sat next to him. "Probably not. By the time I'm there, they'll probably have broken out or something." She took his hand. "Dean did say something about St. Louis. That they were going after him about it."

"What happened in St. Louis?"

"A shapeshifter took his form and killed someone. They got out of it by killing the shifter and letting the police find it."

"In Dean's body."

"Yeah."

Nathan sighed. He lifted the mug to his mouth and took a long drink of coco. "Okay, so, we're talking the Fed level, here."

"Yeah. For some reason, it never occurred to me to look at his record. And, now, he'd gotten himself flagged by the system again."

"And him with a baby on the way."

She swatted his arm. "So, I'm grabbing some food and taking off. You'll tell Mom and Dad?"

"No."

"Good." Rachel rose. Leaned over and kissed Nathan on the head. "It'll just be a few days. And I'll drag that rat bastard back to you, okay?"

"Don't bother. If he's going to be all weird, I don't want him. Bad enough dealing with straight-boy angst. This." He shook his head. "I've got enough to deal with."

"Do you love him?" Rachel asked quietly.

He swallowed and his forehead wrinkled. He turned his head away from her. "I'm getting measured for my new eyes tomorrow. I was thinking of getting little happy faces as pupils. What do you think?"

"I think if you do that, I'll never be able to look at you again," she said, heart aching.

"Well, that's one argument in favor." He turned back. "Go rescue your boy. And tell him all this stress isn't good for the demon spawn." He offered a wobbly smile.

"I'll let him know that."

"And I'll see what I can do about Dean's record. I think Mom has some contacts in the FBI, so maybe she can make some calls."

She nodded. "That's what I was hoping." Rachel bit her lip, hesitating. "Nate?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not being a bad sister, am I? Leaving you?"

Nathan reached out for her hand. When she gave it to him, he took it in both of his and squeezed. "You're being a good wife. And you're already an amazing sister. Don't… don't get yourself all twisted around worrying about whether you're being bad or good or anything. Just, you know. Be."

"Are you high?"

He snorted. "I wish." He kissed her hand. "Tell Sam I was pointedly silent at the mention of his name."

"I will most definitely do that." Rachel bent over and kissed him on top of the head. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

* * *

Sam rubbed his eyes. His head ached, eyes smarted. He'd been up for almost two days straight now, between researching Giles's death and getting arrested and all. Dean was still back at the police station, and Sam still didn't know who the ghost was. To top it all off, his stomach was tied in all kinds of knots because every time he took a break, he found himself missing Nathan and wondering about Nathan and feeling like an ass for just leaving the way he did.

But he didn't know what else to do. He was scared.

There was a scrape at the front door. The knob turned. Sam barely had time to react when the door opened.

"Hello, Rockford," Rachel said, walking inside. She dropped her duffle and kicked the door closed. "Have you figured out the whole Dana Shulps thing yet?"

Sam blinked at her.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" She reached up and wiped her chin.

"Ink," he said. "How'd you get in?"

She dangled a key in the air. "I told the guy at the front desk you were expecting me. Slipped him a fifty."

"Why?"

"Dean called. He said you guys were arrested."

"And he told you to come?"

"Like I need his permission. I've got to go to the bathroom." She tossed her purse on the bed as she passed him on her way to the bathroom. The door slammed.

He grabbed the purse. Dug around until he found her cell phone. He scrolled through the contacts to Nathan's number almost without thinking. His thumb, however, froze over the call button

The toilet flushed. Water ran, and Rachel reemerged from the bathroom. Her eyebrow arched when she saw him. "I dare you to call him."

Sam looked up at her. "Is he okay?"

"He's got his appointment for new eyes today. It'd be nice if his boyfriend was there to hold his hand."

"We had this case…"

"Oh, save it, Sam. I already went through this dance with Dean; I know how it ends."

He tilted his head.

"Being locked in a room together by a sibling. Which, I assume, is why you're avoiding being in the same state as him." She let out a harsh breath. "Just… it wasn't your fault. I don't know what else I can possibly say to either of you to make you guys get that, but this is not your fault. Not his eyes, not this pregnancy, not your dad's death. You both deserve to live your lives, your own lives, and be happy. You deserve to be in love." 

Sam dropped his gaze back to the phone. Exited the contacts and closed it. 

Rachel sighed. She sat on the bed. "So, did you figure out what Dana Shulps meant?"

He cleared his throat. "Um, yeah. It's the name of a street around here. Ashland Street." There were a stack of police reports on the table, which he brought over. "The ghost is female, so I'm looking at all the reports for missing women around Ashland."

"Ashland? Your missing some letters." 

Sam just shrugged.

She riffled though the photos on the bed, studying the images. "So, why were you arrested?"

"The original vic. had a wife. Dean went back to talk to her. The police got a 911 call from the wife saying there was someone in the house."

"And Dean was there with the dead body," Rachel finished. 

"Yeah. Anyway, they picked me up because Dean stuffs everything in his pockets and had a matchbook from the motel in his pocket. They tried to do the whole, 'you're such an innocent boy with the big, mean brother who kills people, and your life will be so much better if you roll on him deal.'"

"And did you?"

"Oh, yeah." He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, Dean sent his lawyer in with the name of the street and told me to take off. When did he call you?"

"Really early this morning. His one phone call was wasted on telling me to find Dana Shulps."

"He was just checking to make sure you were okay. You know that, right?" He glanced down at her stomach, a much more visible bulge than it had been last time.

She nodded. Brushed her fingers underneath her eyes. "No, I didn't know that. I thought the two of you weren't able to do this job without my input."

He felt kind of like an ass. Yeah, he and Dean didn't actually need Rachel to do the job and, yes, Dean's call had been more about making sure Rachel was safe, but he didn't need to say it like that. "Hey," he said, scooting on the bed next to her. He bumped shoulders. "You want to know why I like you traveling with us?"

"You get your own room?"

Sam laughed. "No. Actually, I don't sleep so well on my own anymore. The whole silent room disturbs me."

"You're not sleeping with me and Dean." Her lips twitched.

"Oh, believe me, I can deal with the silence." He shrugged. "You keep Dean steady."

"What?"

"Dean's, you know. He takes a lot onto himself. Weight of the world, ever loss is personal, you know. And he still does that, but with you, it's like he manages to compartmentalize. He can come home from the job. You do that."

"When I'm not the job," she said, sounding a trifle bitter.

There was that. Sam wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Pulled her close to him and kissed her on the head. "You know, even then. He puts it away for you. Just like you manage to put stuff away for him." An image of Nathan came unbidden in his mind, his beaming expressions and ready jokes, even during the worst hunts. And, how, when Nathan got down, Sam could rally to cheer him up.

Life would have been so much easier if Dad had had something like that. 

Rachel leaned her head against his shoulder. "You got quiet. You thinking about…"

A knock on the door interrupted her.

Everything was communicated in a glance. They both slid off the bed, Sam taking up position next to the wall, hidden from view. Rachel waited for his read nod, then opened the door.

The woman on the other side blinked in surprise. "I, um. I'm looking for Sam Winchester."

Rachel was good, Sam would give her that. She didn't look at him, didn't even blink as she said, "You must have the wrong room."

But Sam had recognized the voice. He pulled away from the wall. "Detective?

"Are you stupid?" Rachel hissed, grabbing his shirt.

"Dean sent me," the Detective said.

Sam stepped back, pushing Rachel. "Come in." 

The detective walked inside, her eyes still on Rachel. She was holding her wrist, like it was hurt, but looked alert and wary.

"Have a seat," Sam said, gesturing to the table chair by the window. "What's going on?"

She sat, eyes moving from Rachel to Sam then back again. "I'm sorry, but you are?"

"I'm Rachel." Her face was stony and her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Sam sighed. "She's a… You can trust her. Why did Dean send you?" He sat on the bed and leaned forward, eyes on Ballard.

"I feel like I'm crazy. I can't even…" She shook her head, eyes dropping.

"It's okay. We deal in crazy."

"I don't. This whole thing… all those things your brother was saying about ghosts and demons and everything. It's insane. But, um." She swallowed. "I was in the bathroom at the station, and all the sinks turned on. The mirror fogged over and these words appeared on it."

"Dana Shulps," Sam said.

Ballard nodded. "And then this woman just… appeared. Right behind me. She tried to talk, but there was too much blood." She put her hand over her throat. "And then…" She trailed off. Held out her hands.

Sam took them as gently as he could and studied the dark bruises across her wrists. "And these appeared after you saw it?"

"Yeah, I guess."

He glanced at Rachel. Raised an eyebrow.

She across from the detective at the table. "Did she touch you? Grab you?"

"No. But Dean said that Karen had the same bruises on her wrists."

"Karen was another vic?"

Sam nodded. "She's the one Dean was found with."

"Ah."

"You're going to have to tell me exactly what you saw," Sam said. 

"You know, I must be losing my mind," Ballard said, sitting back with a groan. "You're a fugitive. I should be arresting you."

He rolled his eyes. " All right, well, you know what? You can arrest me later, after you live through this. But right now, you’ve gotta talk to me. Okay?"

Ballard sighed. Nodded.

"Okay, great. Now, this spirit –- what did it look like?"

"She was, um…really pale, and her throat was cut. And her eyes, they were this deep, dark red. It appeared like she was trying to talk to me, but she couldn’t. There was just…a lot of blood."

"So, she looked like a ghost," Rachel said. "That's real helpful." She sighed and rubbed her stomach. "Sam, you got a candy bar or something?"

"Rachel, I'm a fugitive. I broke out of jail and check into a crappy motel. And now I'm trying to get some information from a witness so maybe we can eventually get your husband out of jail."

"Your husband? Dean Winchester is your husband?" Ballard said. "You do realize he's a killer, don't you?"

"Yeah, he kills monsters. Not humans." Rachel rubbed her forehead. "I'm gonna hit the vending machine. You want anything?"

"Just a soda." Sam grabbed the pictures off the bed and handed them to Ballard. "Here. I’ve been researching every girl who’s ever died or gone missing from Ashland Street."

The door closed as Rachel left. 

Ballard glanced at the door, then took the pictures. "How’d you get those? Those are from crime scenes and booking photos."

Between her and Rachel, Sam's patience was worn. "You have your job, I have mine," he answered impatiently. "Here, I need you to look through these. Tell me if you recognize anyone."

She studied him a moment longer before turning her attention to the pictures. "This one," she said after going through them. "This is her. I'm sure of it."

" Claire Becker? Twenty-eight years old, disappeared about eight or nine months ago?"

" But I don’t even know her. Why would she come after me?"

The door opened. Rachel came in with a couple sodas, a bag of chips and a candy bar. She handed Sam the soda as she opened the bag of chips.

"Should you be eating salt?" Sam couldn't help but ask.

Rachel shrugged. "It hasn't hurt before." She popped a chip in her mouth. "You find the ghost?"

"We think it's Claire Becker. Says she was arrested twice for dealing heroin. You ever work narcotics?" He kept an eye on Rachel, just in case. When it came to the baby, he wasn't entirely sure he trusted her. It was part demon, it should react to salt, right?

But she seemed fine as she continued eating. No discomfort or vomiting, so that was good. Although Sam couldn't help wincing at the poor nutritional value of her snack.

"Yeah," Ballard said to Sam. "Pete and I worked narcotics before we moved to homicide."

"Did you ever bust her?"

"Not that I remember."

Sam looked down at the rap sheet. " It says she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland Street. The police searched the place, didn’t find anything. Guess we’ve gotta check it out ourselves. See if we can find a body."

"What?" Ballard sounded aghast. 

"You need to salt and burn the bones to put a spirit to rest," Rachel said. She crumpled the bag and tossed it into the waste bin. "You should probably stay put, Sam. Out of sight. I can go check it out."

"What? No."

She clenched her jaw. "Why not? It's a simple salt and burn. I can do it."

Oh, God, why were they having this conversation? Why did Dean even have to call her in the first place? He knew how stubborn she was, he had to have known she'd come. And now Sam was stuck with her being irrational and frustration and Dean got to sit easy at the police station.

"Rachel, don't do this. Please."

"Oh, I get it. I get to stay at the crappy motel and you take Detective LiveBait with you."

He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. "Do you have any aspirin?"

"I'm pregnant with the spawn of Satan. I can't take aspirin." There was a rattling from her purse, and then a bottle hit Sam in the side of the head.

"I'm sorry, but are you seriously suggesting going after a homicidal ghost or whatever this is while you're pregnant?" Detective Ballard said.

"Oh, Detective, I bet I could walk in front of a fully grown dragon in kill mode and come out unscathed," Rachel said. 

Sam glanced at her as he took the Tylenol she'd thrown at him. 

There was a bitter smile on her face.

"Dragons exist?"

Rachel shrugged. "If they do, I'd bet I'd be fine."

"Yeah, but you're not testing it on my watch," Sam said. "Risk your life with Dean, okay? But if anything happens to you or the baby, he'll kill me."

"Why would he care about the baby?"

"Oh my God." He grabbed Rachel's phone without thinking.

Rachel tackled him. "Don't you dare call my brother to complain about me after trying to break up with him!"

His stomach did a nose dive. He dropped the phone, feeling hollow and sick, unable to believe what he'd almost done. "Shit," he swore, pressing his face into the bedspread.

Detective Ballard cleared her throat. "Um, I don't mean to interrupt what is clearly important issue time, but I have a vengeful ghost after me?"

Rachel climbed off Sam, allowing him to sit up. Tears had spilled from the corner of her eyes during their tussle and the hair had escaped from her braid.

He sighed. Wiped a tear away with his thumb. "They impounded the car and stuff. You get that while the detective and I check out the ghost. Then we'll work on getting Dean out. Sound good?"

She sniffed. Nodded.

"And I'll call Nathan as soon as we're done."

"No. You'll come home and face him."

He sighed. Closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I'll see him."


	13. Chapter 13

It figured that it was a job that made her go out and get clothes that fit rather than an actual need. After Sam and the detective had left, Rachel had tried to pull on something that looked more or less FBI-ish. Unfortunately, her slacks, which had always tended on the tight side in her bottom (to Dean's approval), split as she tried to pull them up.

Which meant she had to get a new pair. Which meant she might as well face the inevitable and face the baby shop.

"Do you have any nursing bras yet?" the saleswoman asked as Rachel pulled pants and shirts into her arms. "They're very comfortable to wear, and many doctors recommend them during pregnancy."

"I don't have time right now." 

"How far along are you?" she asked, blithely ignoring Rachel and taking down a couple of nursing bras. "You started thinking of names yet? Is it a girl or a boy? I bet it's a girl. You look like you're carrying high. Are you going to have a natural birth? Are you…"

"I'm good," Rachel said, stopping on her way to the dressing room. "I want to buy this now."

"But you haven't tried anything on yet!"

"It's fine. I'm on timetable here." She grabbed the bras from the sale's lady and marched up to the counter. "I've really got to go."

The other woman's face became a sympathetic mask. "We do have a bathroom in back. Believe me, it happens all the time."

Rachel smiled tightly. "I'd be more comfortable at home. But thanks."

"Oh, my sister is the same way! Every time we go out, she's this total nervous wreck and won't drink anything just in case she has to go. And she won't go on any vacations either, it's really sad. Of course, she's never been pregnant, I don't think she'd be able to handle it. Probably would become a recluse. You know, this lady who was in here earlier had a homebirth. In her bathtub. Now, I'll for natural and homeopathic and stuff, but I don't know. All that stuff floating around, bumping into your skin. It's just kind of… gross. Not that there's anything gross about babies or giving birth, although I think they shouldn't call it a mucus plug, you know?"

Rachel gritted her teeth and tried not to scream. This woman had to be possessed or something. No one could possibly talk about pregnancy and birth so much and say so little to someone so uninterested otherwise.

She wondered if this was her punishment for finding out Azazel's name.

"So, here you are. I hope you come again and have a wonderful day! Remember, eat lots of vegetables and stuff."

"Thank you." She practically ran out of the store, just in case she was subjected to another meandering speech about pregnancy and giving birth. A quick change in the bathroom of a gas station had her looking more or less like a legitimate member of the FBI, and she was pulling outside of the impound lot when she got a text from Sam.

_Ashland Supplies. We're digging spirit up now._

Rachel texted Sam back. _Getting car. Watch your back._

A grizzled, pudgy man in his sixties was sitting behind the desk of the main office. Doctor Phil was on the TV, and the man was reading Busty Asian Beauties poorly concealed in a Woman's Day magazine.

Rachel swallowed back her nervousness. She'd never done this without backup before. Squaring her shoulders, she marched up to the desk. "I'm Detective Jade from Saint Louis PD." She pulled her badge from her breast pocket and flashes it. "I was sent to pick up a car that's involved in a case." Heart hammering, she opened the folder she was carrying and made a show of reading it. "A 1967 Chevrolet Impala." She snapped the folder shut and looked up at the man.

He'd put his magazine down and had one hand splayed out over one of the models. It was, Rachel noted, the one who had a smattering of freckles across her nose. Dean loved her and even Rachel had to admit, her pictures were hot.

"They sent a detective to extradite a car?" the man drawled.

She quirked her mouth. "I've got less than a year under my belt and this happened," she said, putting her hand on her stomach. "I'm getting shitty pick-up jobs for the rest of my career."

He snorted. Turned and began rummaging through the stacks of paper on the counter behind him. "Didn't know they wanted the car. Gonna break a lotta hearts. Bunch guys heard about it and were already counting on getting it at auction." He turned back with a computer print-out. "Any reason why it's going to Saint Louis?"

"This, uh, Winchester guy that it belongs to had a rap sheet as long as my arm. He's had the car since forever. Might be some evidence." She pulled the sheet to her and signed where he highlighted. Then she handed over the mocked-up requisition form to his waiting hand.

"They gonna pay for the fees, or am I just gonna have to eat them?"

"Give me a receipt and I'll make sure you'll get what you're owed." 

He took her form to the computer. Started peck-and-seek typing.

She bit back a groan, fingers itching to take over. She hated people who couldn't type over two words a minute.

Her phone buzzed.

_Claire was a death omen. Ballard's partner probably killed her to cover up heroin theft._

Well, that was just great.

_Dean?_

"All right," the man said. "Here's the receipt. And one more for you to sign." He slid another paper to her. Then he turned the page in his magazine.

Rachel signed the last page and handed it back. "Keys?" she asked.

"Here you are, Detective Jade. You have a nice day." He leaned back and picked up the magazine.

"You forgot your cover," Rachel said. She handed him Women's Day and left.

The phone buzzed again.

_Ballard's trying to track down her partner now. You have the car?_

_Yeah._

_Get our stuff from motels and wait. I'll call when we have Dean._

"Oh, great. More waiting." "Oh, great. More waiting." She found the Impala and transferred the contents of her parents car to the Impala. After a quick side trip to drop the keys off with a friend of her parents, she headed to the police station.

She was sent to the homicide division only to find Sheridan wasn't there. And, she was not going to see Dean no matter how many (fake) lawyer credentials she waved around.

She finally found Sheridan near the holding cells in the basement.

"Hi," she said, trying not to sound nervous. "I've been looking for you. I'm Dean Winchester's lawyer, and I'm here to see him."

Sheridan looked her up and down. The expression on his face was smarmy, and Rachel felt like she needed a shower just from the touch of his eyes. 

Oh, yeah. He was their guy.

"Jeff Klause is Winchester's attorney."

Oh, good, a test. "You mean Krause, and he was. I've been brought in."

"By who?"

"His father-in-law thought he needed better representation than a public defender." She handed over her fake ID and business card.

He raised his eyebrow. "Roberta McGee?"

"My parents were Joni Mitchell fans. May I see my client?"

Sheridan licked his lip. Glanced over his shoulder and stepped closer to her. "Yeah. Let's go." 

As soon as he put his hand on her shoulder, she knew she was in trouble. There was no one around them and he had that look in his eyes. 

"I…" she started, pulling away, but he was too fast. 

He grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her into the wall before she could stop him. The last thing she thought before she blacked out was, "Dean is going to kill me."

* * *

Her head hurt. And her body was heavy. Unnaturally so, like she'd been drugged. 

She tried to remember what happened. Dean had called. She'd gotten the Impala. Went to the police department.

Her stomach twisted, nausea rising. Rachel clenched her jaw and breathed through her nose. She didn't want to throw up, but between the pain and the drugs and the pregnancy, her normal anti-nausea routine didn't seem to be helping.

Arms shaking, she pushed herself into a sitting position only to lose her balance and fall as the world around her lurched.

 

"Pee break? So soon? You know, you might wanna get your prostate checked."

Dean.

"Dean?" Rachel tried to say, but her voice was dry and cracked. It came out a whisper.

A door slammed. And then the side of the van opened.

She pushed herself up again. "Dean," she said.

Dean swiveled his head, startled. "Rach. What the fuck are you doing here?" He turned to Sheridan. "What the fuck is she doing here, you bastard?"

Sheridan grabbed Rachel's arm and dragged her out of the van. The rough carpet on the floor burned her skin. She was grateful when she tumbled out and hit the ground.

"You are one cocky son of a bitch," Sheridan said to Dean. " You think those people in St. Louis are gonna buy that crap you’re peddling? Here’s the thing. You’re not gonna make it to St. Louis." He grabbed Dean and threw him to the ground next to Rachel.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked, rolling over to Rachel. He brought his cuffed hands to cup her face. His eyes darkened. "What the fuck did you do to her, you son a bitch?" Dean rolled onto his back again and stood.

"You escaped, Winchester. Killed this poor girl and made a run for it before I caught up with you." He raised his gun.

Rachel pushed herself up. She saw Dean's eyes flash.

"I am going to kill you," he told Sheridan.

Sheridan just smirked and cocked the gun.

"Pete! Put the gun down!" Ballard shouted, coming out of nowhere.

Rachel closed her eyes, losing the thread of the conversation. She felt warmth next to her, and then Dean's lips on her forehead.

"You okay?"

She swallowed. "I don't know. He gave me something."

Dean swore. He began checking her over, the head wound, her pupils, her pulse. "Why are you here?"

"You called."

"I knew as soon as I hung up, it was a mistake. You stupid, obstinate, stubborn woman." He lifted her chin and kissed her.

"Don't!" she heard Sam shout.

Rachel pulled away just in time to see a ghost appear next to Sheridan. It reached out to him, and he backed away in fear.

A gun went off.

Sheridan fell to the ground.

"I think I'm going to throw up," Rachel said. And then she did.

"Okay, I need to be uncuffed, and we need a ride back to town. And I need to know where my car is," Dean said. 

Sam knelt next to Rachel and wrapped her in his jacket. "I swear, I have no idea what happened to her. Last I talked to her, she'd gotten the car and was going to get our stuff from the motel."

"It's at the station," Rachel said, wiping her mouth on the edge of her shirt. "I got it out of impound."

"Can you give us a ride?" Sam asked. "Or are you going take us back?"

Ballard sighed. "Well, Pete did confess to me. He screwed up both your cases royally. I’d say there’s a good chance that we can get your cases dismissed. But the St. Louis murder charges –- that’s another story."

"Look, I don't care," Dean said. "I need to get her home yesterday."

Ballard nodded. "Okay. I'll take you back to your car and then just turn my back. You walk away. I tell them you escaped."

"Sounds good to me." Dean lifted her and climbed into the van. A moment later, they started moving.

"I'm sorry," Rachel whispered, head resting against Dean's shoulder. "I know I was just supposed to get the car, but I…" She licked her lips. Winced at the taste. "I hate that I'm sidelined with this thing."

Dean tightened his arms around her. Rested his chin on her head. "How'd you get caught?"

"I was stupid. I didn't think he'd jump me in the middle of the police station. But he grabbed me and slammed me into a wall." She swallowed, tears prickling in her eyes.

"We all have our off days." He kissed her head. Lightly traced the bruise on the side of her face. "We'll talk about this later. When you're not drugged and concussed, okay? I just want you to rest now. Got that?"

"Yeah.” She closed her eyes and relaxed into his embrace, feeling safe.

* * *

Normally, when one the run from the cops, they'd go for at least three or so hours. With Rachel in along for the ride, they should have been able to make the five hour drive back to Hartford with no problem.

Except, Sam was obviously completely trashed. He fell asleep in the backseat before they'd even left the city. Dean felt much the same way; his eyes felt like they had weights attached to them, and all he want to do was let them slid shut. And Rachel had been knocked out for God only knew how many hours and was possibly concussed. But that wasn't why Dean made the command decision to pull off into a little no-tell motel about an hour and a half after they blew outta Baltimore.

It was the fact Rachel had been crying for nearly that long.

It wasn't loud crying, which somehow made it almost worse. It was that quiet, tears sliding down her face, no sound except sniffling quiet. She wasn't even trying to pretend she wasn't crying. She just sat there, crying.

They all needed sleep. So, he found a place where they could probably stay off the radar and got a couple rooms.

The door had hardly closed before Dean asked, "What's wrong?"

Rachel wiped her face. "Nothing," she said. She sat on the bed real carefully, like she was afraid she was going to break or something. "Nothing, I'm just tired. And have a headache."

"You're crying." He still wasn't good at saying everything he was thinking, all the fears and feelings and shit, but he could put all of it into a few words. And Rachel always seem to hear all the emotions that were roiling beneath his skin.

She nodded and wiped her face again. "I know. I can't stop. Pregnancy hormones or something."

"What happened with Sheridan?"

That brought fresh tears. A look of helplessness as she remembered it.

Fear and frustration knotted Dean's stomach. He sat next to her and slung his arm around her shoulders.

"I knew that you weren't calling and asking me to come. I wanted to come. I didn't want to be at home. I was running away from Nathan just as much as I was coming to you, and I don't even know what that says about me." She sniffed. Wiped her nose. "I know you can take care of yourself. You and Sam can take care of each other. I just kind of feel like I have something to prove, you know?"

"You don't have anything to prove."

"I'm pregnant with a demon. I don't know why or what it wants, and my brother lost his eyes because I can't leave it alone. I feel… I feel dirty and infected and hijacked. Stupid."

He didn't know what to say to that. What could anyone say?

"Sheridan, um. He slammed me into a wall."

"What?" he shouted. "Rachel, fuck." He jumped off the bed, tugging her with him.

She pulled him back down. "I'm fine. And even if I'm not, I'm too tired to rush off in a panic. If the demon wants this thing, then he'll have to make sure it isn't smashed."

Dean caught her as she bent forward, sobbing. A hot flare of panic washed through him. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I don't want this. I don't want to be pregnant. I don't want any of this."

His heart twisted. Eyes prickled. "I don't know what to do." It came out more panicked than he meant. He swallowed and tried again. "You said you didn't think it'd let you have an abortion. We can go to some, I don't know, holy person or hoodoo priestess or something. Missouri or…"

"No. No." She pulled away. Her eyes were a swollen mess and her nose all red. "No, I don't want any of that. I'm too afraid…" Rachel shook her head. Rubbed at her eyes. "I don't want anything to happen to any of you. I just.. I don't know what to do. I hate feeling like this. I hate not knowing what to do or what's right. And feeling useless."

"You're not useless." It was a stupid thing to say, completely off the point, but it was true. "Rach, you're not useless. I mean, you're brilliant and you help with research. You got my car back."

"Sam can do research. The two of you have been doing this all your lives. You don't need me."

His throat tightened. He grabbed her and pulled her back. "I need you," he said, voice gruff.

She shuddered against him. Pressed her forehead against his neck.

He shouldn't have ever gotten involved with her. Shouldn't have let her stay, shouldn't have…

But he needed her. He loved her.

"You said that the demon told you that it's not gonna hurt you, right? The baby, I mean. It'll be like a normal pregnancy."

"Yeah, I guess. That doesn't mean…"

"No, I know." It didn't make it okay. Didn't make her want to be pregnant. Didn't stop her from fearing what would come out.

Him either.

Rachel sighed, her body relaxing against him. "I'm okay," she said. She pulled away and gave him a shaky smile. "I'm just tired. And off balance. I wasn't kidding when I said pregnancy hormones. And I'm tired." She put her hand on his cheek. "You're tired, too. You look like you have slept in a week."

"Feels like it." He leaned against her hand.

"Come on. Let's get some sleep."

Dean caught her before she could crawl away. He gave her a long, searching look before pulling her into a kiss.  
When they lay down, she was wrapped in his arms, her weight warm and heavy against his body. He felt himself relaxing as she did, comforted, as he drifted off to sleep.

Sam opened his eyes. He was lying on his back in a bed with broken springs. They poked into his back, and he had no idea how he'd slept at all, much less—he checked his cell phone—seven hours. But he had, and he felt more or less refreshed, if grimy.

A tepid shower with bad water pressure fixed the griminess. Weak coffee from the in-room coffee maker helped him feel a little more human. He was about ready to venture next door to check on Dean and Rachel when his phone rang.

Nathan.

Sam closed his eyes. Counted to ten and answered. "Hey."

"So," Nathan said, "remember in _Empire_ , how while Han and Leia and everyone went off and did their thing, Luke took off by himself to learn to be a Jedi?"

"Yeah."

Nathan left out a soft sigh. "I miss you."

"Yeah." He nodded. "I miss you, too." He hesitated, then said, "We'll be there soon. We all needed sleep and stopped, but we're on our way. So, you know." He trailed off, because he didn't really know what he meant.

"Well, that's the thing. There's a possible black dog down in Greenwood, Mississippi."

He shook his head. "I don't care. Look, Nathan, I shouldn't have run out on you like that. It was a jerk thing to do."

"Oh, yeah, now you're all chivalrous." He said it lightly, with a smile in his voice, but it still stung.

"Let me make it right."

"I want you to make it all kinds of right, baby," Nathan purred. "But I'm dealing with stuff. I have to learn how to get around. How to use a cane. I'm talking with the doctor about maybe getting a guide dog, and that means I'll have to be trained for that. I'm sleeping in the downstairs guest room because I tripped down the stairs three times yesterday, and I don't know if I can deal with you right now. So, just go hunt."

And that hurt the most. It shouldn't. This was what Sam wanted, right? Sort of. Nathan had gotten hurt, and Sam just wanted to be away. To protect Nathan from further pain. To protect himself from further pain.

He didn't know why he'd expected Nathan to fight harder for him. He had no reason, no right, to expect anything.

It still hurt.

"Okay," he said, trying to mask the lump in his throat. "Okay, if that's…"

"Sam, I'm not doing this because I don't want you anymore. I do," Nathan said. "I'm still crazy about you. I am. And, you know what, I think we're good together. I think we're fucking great together. I think the reason we waited so long to finally get naked together, why we never did any more than frot and jerk each other off, isn't because we're not good or because of heterosexual freak-out or any of that. I think we both knew how good it was going to be, and we didn't want to rush that. And I still don't. Right now, I'm angry and depressed and freaking out and I'm not in a good place. And there are people being torn apart by black dogs or murdered by ghosts, and there's still the matter of that demon that raped my sister."

"Nathan…"

"I can't help. And Rachel's miserable here. You know that's why she took off the minute Dean called. She doesn't want to be here."

"I know." He sighed. Looked down, toying with a loose thread on his jeans. "I know… I mean I knew…" He swallowed. "I haven't felt, you know. Not since Jess. It took her and me awhile, too. Because we didn't want to rush it. And I didn't. With you." He felt like an idiot.

"Yeah." Nathan's voice was soft. Fond. "So. You get your head together. I'll get my situation sorted out. And we'll talk. There's lots of things you can do on the phone, you know."

Sam laughed. Smile. "Uh-huh."

"What are you wearing?" Nathan asked. His voice dropped an octave and sort of rumbled in his chest.

His face went up in flame. "Uh…"

"Sam!" Dean shouted through the door, pounding on it. "Open up! We're gonna get food. Come on!"

"Give me a second!" Sam shouted back. "Dean."

"Yeah, I heard him. He sounds like a bear."

"I'll be sure to tell him. I should go."

"I know. I'll e-mail you the information about the black dog. I'm picking up the whole computer thing pretty quickly."

"That's good. That's real good."

"So you'll e-mail me, right? And call?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah, Nathan. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A different version of this [chapter](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6066203/13/Bitter-Seed) is posted at ff.net. I don't remember rewriting it. And I'm not sure which one I like more.


	14. Chapter 14

Dean woke from a dreamless sleep, feeling chilled He opened his eyes to find his vision obscured by miles of blanket. Rolling onto his side revealed the coldness problem was due to the fact his wife had stolen all the blankets and wrapped them around her like the big old blanket hog she was.

Freak

He snuggled into her, tugging blankets. She was deep enough asleep that her grip was lax, and he soon found himself warm again, pressed against her side, nice and comfortable.

He felt good. Refreshed. Of course, he'd gotten about a solid eight hours a night for almost a week, so it made sense. Yeah, he probably had years of sleep debt to pay off, but, right now, he wasn't feeling it so much.

There was a possibility he might be able to get used to this. Not that he wanted to live in Rachel's parents' pool house for the rest of his life or anything, but the whole permanent place to stay, comfortable bed thing was nice.   
The only real problem was he didn't have much to do. They weren't on any job right now, hadn't been for a few weeks. The last one had been just after Christmas, when he and Sam had cleared an Illinois inn of a ghost masquerading as an imaginary friend. Rachel had sat that one out, opting to get Nathan settled into a special school for the blind in Connecticut. They'd met up at her folks, and then…

Took a break. Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd just taken a break from hunting. When he was a kid, yeah, but that had been him and Sammy. John always seemed to be on a case, even when they were in school. Dean had just followed that example when he got older.

And now he was taking a break. He worked on the car and made sure his weapons were all taken care of. He watched movies and looked at the pool (it was too cold to actually go in it, but he could look). He and Rachel went out a couple times, hung out, had sex. Nothing was trying to kill them, there was no late night trips to the cemetery, no spending ten hours plus at the library searching through books for God only knew what. It was like a vacation.

Rachel groaned deep in her throat. Her face scrunched up, and she rolled onto her side, facing Dean.

"Hey," Dean whispered, kissing her nose. "You awake?"

"No. Baby's kicking. Tell it to go to sleep."

He smiled and placed his hand her stomach. He could feel a very slight movement, a very faint kind of fluttering.   
The baby did that a lot, especially in the morning.

Rachel couldn't stand it. Lines always appeared around her eyes when the baby kicked, and she got real quiet. But Dean kind of liked it. Of course, he wasn't the one pregnant, so he could.

Not that this whole thing didn't suck. The stress of not knowing wore on them all. Dean tried not to think about it too much. When he did, his head started splitting, and he needed a drink.

What if it was evil? What if he had to kill it? Would he really be expected to, because, honestly, he didn't think he could do it. No, he'd never met it, but it was a baby. Didn't matter if it was a demon, a baby was a baby. It hadn't done anything yet. It didn't deserve death.

He wondered if Dad would be able to do it. Kill a baby. Kill his wife's baby.

Maybe that's why Dad had made the deal. He realized he'd never be able to kill Sam, no matter what he did or became, so he bowed out. Sold his soul for Dean's because it was the better of the two options. Lesser of the two evils.

And yet, somehow, he expected Dean to kill Sam, if it came to it. Save him or kill him.

Dean would never be able to kill Sam. And he didn't think he'd be able to kill his daughter.

For some reason, he was convinced it was going to be a girl. Whenever Rachel slipped and referred to the baby by gender instead of 'it', she always said 'he.' Dean thought otherwise. He didn't know why, just a gut feeling. Not that he cared either way. As long as it didn't kill Rachel by tearing her open or try to destroy the world, he'd take boy or girl.

He heard movement in the other room. Sammy was up.

Dean dropped a kiss on Rachel's head and another on her stomach. He figured that the more love he showed the baby, the less likely it was to be evil, right?

When he said that to Rachel, though, she just rolled her eyes and smiled at him in what could only be described as a fond manner.

Sam was in the kitchen, his laptop open, mug of coffee next to it. He nodded at Dean in acknowledgement.

"You looking for a job?" Dean asked. He poured himself coffee and sat across from Sam.

"Not really. Mostly looking to see if there's anything about Ava."

"Anything?"

He shook his head. "This sucks, you know? I shouldn't have sent Ava away. We should have stuck together."

"And then what? When she went evil, we would have had to kill her."

"We don't know if she'd turn evil. Andy hasn't."

Dean shrugged. Sipped his coffee.

"What? You actually think Andy has it in him to go mass murderer or something?"

"He killed his brother."

"His brother was trying to make you shoot yourself in the head. And succeeding."

"I'm not saying I don't appreciate it. I'm just saying, he's killed. He killed blood. Who knows what he'll do down the line?"

Sam bit his lip. Looked down into his mug like it might have answers to the universe. "Would you?" he asked after a moment. His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

Dean's stomach clenched. The morning had started out so well, too. "Would never need to."

"What if…"

"Sam."

"You promised me. That you'd kill me if I ever turned evil."

"You were drunk. You drunk dialed Nathan. You drunk dialed me, and I was in the same room. Promises made while drunk don't count."

"But…"  
Dean's phone rang. He snatched it up before Sam could finish his thought. "Yeah?"

"Dean?" Bobby said.

"Hey, Bobby, what's up?"

He cleared his throat. "How, uh. How are you all?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "We're all fine. And you?"

Sam's eyebrows hit his hairline. Bobby wasn't known for exchanging pleasantries.

"And Rachel?" Bobby said instead of answering. "She's good?"

"Bobby, what's going on?"

He sighed. "I shouldn't be calling. I shouldn't be asking."

"Asking what?"

"Look, I wouldn't call except… except as a favor. It's a delicate situation and all that, and I don't… I don't know if this is the right thing or anything, but…"

"Bobby!"

He sighed again. "Right. Okay. Something seems to be, I don't know, preying on pregnant women in my town. There's been an unusual number of miscarriages and stillbirths. Weird circumstances, too. Previously healthy fetuses suddenly have heart or liver damage. Or their faces are suddenly deformed. Anyway, one of the women was the local librarian, a friend of mine. She claims she saw a giant bat in her room the night she miscarried."

"Are you kidding me?" Dean asked. He couldn't believe this. Couldn't believe that Bobby would actually try to ask him this.

"I know, Dean, but something ain't right here. It's not natural and it needs to be stopped."

His hands were shaking. He clenched them. "Don't you think this whole thing is hard enough on Rachel without adding a hunt for a creature causing miscarriages?"

Sam's eyebrows hit his hairline.

"I know. I know it's a horrible thing to ask, and I wouldn't. If I had any other choice, I wouldn't. But, let's face it, she's the only hunter who's knocked up right now. We can't send a ringer, the thing would know. So she's it."

"What's Bobby saying?"

It felt like his head was spinning. Sam wasn't even a fully formed person in front of him, just a kind of beige colored blob. Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd been so angry he couldn't breathe.

"Dean?" Sam said again.

"Bobby, I swear to God…"

"Look, you don't have to say yes. She doesn't have to say yes. But ask." The line went dead.

"Dean?" Sam said.

Dean slammed his phone on the table. "He wants to borrow Rachel to investigate some creature that's causing women to miscarry. That fucker."

Sam started in surprise. "Really? What does he think it is?"

"What the fuck does it matter, he wants to put Rachel in danger!"

"He must have his reasons. He trusts you to protect her. Trusts her to protect herself."

"What the hell is wrong with you, Sam? I'm not letting some monster make a banquet of that baby!"

"I'm not saying you should! But Bobby wouldn't ask if he weren't desperate."

Dean pressed dug the palms of his hands into his eyes. He couldn't believe this was happening. All the good feelings from the morning, the week, had been washed away. Would they ever catch a fucking break. "Dammit, Sam. It's not going to happen. I'm not putting Rachel in danger."

"What's going on?" Rachel asked sleepily from the bedroom door.

Shit.

His heart gave a funny little squeeze, the way it always seemed to when he looked at her. Especially like this, her hair a frizzy halo around her head, nightgown clinging to her body, feet encased in fuzzy slippers. Despite being unhappy at the body hijacking hers (Rachel's words, not his), she had that radiant glow that he'd always heard pregnant women got. It was like, every day she got more beautiful.

"Dean?" She tilted her heads, narrowed her eyes.

"It's nothing," he said. "Sorry to wake you."

She shook her head and came into the room. "What did Bobby want?"

"Rach…"

"It has something to do with me. You don't get to make decisions for me. What did he want?"

"It's not just a decision about you." Then, when her face started turning red, he said quickly, "It's me, too. Us. Not just one of us. Isn't that what you said marriage is?" He gave her his most charming smile.

She was getting immune. "Okay, so allow me to know what you're deciding for us." She crossed the room and took a seat at the table.

Dean rubbed his forehead. "Something's making women have miscarriages out in Sioux Falls. Unusual miscarriages. Bobby thinks it's some creature, maybe something that looks like a bat."

"And he wants to use me as bait?"

"I didn't let him get that far. I don't know what he wanted."

She rested her hand on her chin. Looked at him expectantly.

"Rach. No."

"Dean, the chances of anything happening to me are slim. Let's face it, the demon has an investment in seeing this thing born."

"But it'd let you bait yourself out. To stop something else that's evil."

"Evil things tend not to like other things, not unless they're working toward the same goal. Whatever the demon is working towards, I doubt causing miscarriages is on its agenda. If it has a problem, it can let me know." She glanced at Sam.

Traitor just shrugged and said, "It hasn't been shy about letting you know stuff before."

Dean gaped at him. "Dude. It burned out her brother's eyes last time it wanted her to stop something. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It didn't hurt her," Sam said.

"He's got a point." Rachel hooked her feet around Dean's calves. Ran one up and down his leg, giving him a smoldering look from under her eyelashes. "Come on, Dean. It's not like you to turn down the chance to save people. Especially women. Especially vulnerable women being preyed on by dark forces."

He swallowed, throat dry. His eyes traced the curve of her jaw. The line of neck, and the way her nightgown dipped down to reveal one perfect shoulder.

The chair screamed the dull scream of wood on tile as Sammy abruptly pushed from the table. "I'm… going," he mumbled.

Dean barely noticed as Sam beat a hasty retreat from the pool house, the door slamming behind him.

"That was mean."

"I know. But it sort of goes with my point." She stood. Sat carefully in Dean's lap, all awkward arms, leg, and baby bulge. "I'm still good to travel right now. I feel good. I can sit, stand, run, whatever. Even the job itself, I probably won't have to do anything strenuous, just sit and look pregnant. I've got that down." She smiled wryly and ran her fingertips over her bump. "And, after, we can come back and… and start looking for a place."

"A place?"

"We can't stay in the pool house forever. It's not fair to us. It's not fair to Sam. He keeps bouncing from the sofa here to the main house and back. And this really isn't a home. It's half step up from a motel room. And you were right. We're going to need a more permanent place. So. One more hunt, then we find one."

"Really?" He didn't want to feel hopeful. His life had always been on the road, and when Rachel had been so ambivalent towards setting down, he'd begun to figure it wasn't going to happen. If she was willing to at least think about it now, it might mean she was coming around to the idea the baby was going to stay with them.

But it would probably be better not to mention that. Just go with what she was saying now.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't want to live off my parents. We can find an apartment or small house or something. Have a room for Sam and…" She bit her lip. Pressed her palm against her stomach. "But let's do one last thing together, before."

Dean's chest felt tight. He reached up and cupped her cheek. "Only if it's not too dangerous. I'm not losing you."

"You won't." She squeezed his hand. "We'll call and get all the details before we decide anything definite. That sound good?"

"Yeah." No, not really, but he'd give her this. Marriage was about compromise, right? He could do that.

He reached for his phone.

Rachel stopped him. "Not right now. After."

Dean smiled. "After?"

The grin Rachel gave him was sensual. Full of promise. "Yeah. After."

After it was.  
________________________________________

Dean wasn't happy, but Rachel wasn't sure what to do about that. Okay, yes, she could have agreed with him and refused the hunt. They could have stayed in Hartford. Looked for a place. Settled down and just dealt with the fact that the doom date was drawing closer every day.

But doing nothing was driving her crazy. And she'd been keeping busy. Before Nathan had gone to school to learn to live with being blind, he'd told her he'd won their argument and now she had to scan all their books into the computer so he could still do research. And, since this was all her fault, she'd agreed. So her days were spent in the Adams' family library, setting up a server large enough to encompass the information then scanning and editing all the books they had. Sam helped, and Dean sometimes joined them.

It wasn't that it wasn't an interesting task. It was. She enjoyed doing it, even if the reasons for having to sucked.  
But. People were being hurt, and she could help. What's more, her specific circumstances could help. If anything good could come out of being raped and carrying a demon baby, she was going to grab it. Because maybe, just maybe, it could help her feel a little less helpless.

But all Dean saw was that she was putting herself in danger and Bobby was asking her to. Which led to them sitting around Bobby's kitchen table, Dean giving Bobby the death glare.

It was times like this she was almost glad John wasn't alive. Not that she was happy he was dead, but Dean didn't have the same compulsive obedience to Bobby that he had his dad. Which meant, when he disagreed with Bobby, it didn't tear Dean apart the way it would if it were John. He just got angry, and he wasn't afraid to let people know.

"Thanks for doing this," Bobby said after they were all settled. He was avoiding Dean's eyes, looking at Rachel. "I know it's a lot to ask…"

"Damn right," Dean muttered.

Rachel kicked him in the shin. "It's okay, Bobby, I'm glad to help. What have you got?"

Bobby shot an aborted look at Dean, then leaned forward. "There's no real connection between the women, other than they all attend birth classes at the same hospital. They ain't in the same class, don't got the same teachers. Hell, they were all in different sessions. Maggie asked me to look into it after she miscarried. She said she'd heard rumors about weird miscarriages, but she thought it was just that. Rumors. People being nervous. And then…" He trailed off, giving them a one shoulder shrug.

"She said she saw a bat in her room?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. A giant bat, she says like Dracula or something. She said she was dreaming that the baby was trying to dig itself out of her stomach. There was a pain in her navel, like something was pressing or sucking. It woke her up, and she saw a what looked like a big bat by the window. It flew away before she got a good look."

Rachel swallowed and pressed her hand against her stomach. She'd had dreams like that. Dreams that ended with a bloody wound in her stomach, and Azazel standing over her, holding a tiny demon.

"You okay?" Dean asked. He squeezed her knee.

"I'm fine." She picked up her milk and took a sip. "So, uh. You have any idea what it might be?"

"Maybe." Bobby slid a book across the table. "It sounds like it might be a Manananggal. It's a Pilipino demon that has wings. It detaches its upper body from its lower, then flies off to feed. It can cause miscarriages from feeding, but it also causes the baby to be born deformed. And, I checked the hospital. Past year, there's been a high number of babies with deformities born."

"How do you kill it?"

"According to the lore, you gotta go after it while the two parts are detached from each other. You sprinkle salt or rub garlic on its lower half. The top can't reattach, and it dies."

"But you don't know who this thing is." Dean's voice is flat. "That's why you want to use my wife as bait."

Bobby bristled. "It ain't like I want to send her in alone. I figured the two of you could check out one of the classes at the hospital. Ask around, try and figure out who it is. Then me and Sam can go after it while…"

"While it goes after Rachel."

The older man shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. "Well. Not necessarily her."

"We can figure it out before it goes after someone else," Sam said. He was reading the book. "It says that they're usually beautiful older women. "

"Yeah, there won't be any older women working in a maternity ward or anything," Dean said sarcastically. "It's usually, what, young men who run those classes, right?"

"Dean."  
"No, look. I don't like this, it's crap. We're walking into some baby-eating creature's lair with a nice juicy baby." He turned to Rachel, face twisting into a sudden mask of despair. "Why are you do you want to do this?"

"I told you, I want to try and help someone. If this is the way, this is the way. Besides, don't you think you'll be able to protect me?"

The expression on his face clearly said he didn't.

Sam cleared his throat. "The book says that that people protect themselves by hanging garlic or carrying salt in their pockets."

"Yeah, I'm really not happy that the lore on this sounds a lot like vampire lore. Because, as you know, vampire lore is bullshit." Dean sighed. "Okay, but… you need to take one of these birthing classes anyway, right?"

Rachel's stomach flipped over. "Yeah," she said. "I guess."

Dean sighed. Nodded. "Okay, so. We start there, I guess."

"You'll need a cover story," Bobby pointed out. "And you should probably see one of the doctors or something. The women all had different doctors, but, I don't know. They might need one on record."

Rachel nodded. "Okay. So… let's get started."  
________________________________________

Once upon a time, Dean's life had been pretty simple. Something would go bump in the night, he'd go to town, sometimes flash a badge, bluff his way onto the scene, and get information. There'd been no need for suits or back stories. Nothing more than a fake badge, a fake name, and whole lotta confidence.

Then Dad had taken off and Sammy had come back. Sam had insisted on suits and ties. Then Rachel had come along.

And now he was sitting in a circle of uncomfortable plastic chairs, surrounded by pregnant women and their partners, introducing himself and Rachel with the incredibly (over)detailed backstory that Rachel had worked up while waiting for the class.

"I'm, uh, Dean Adams, and this is my wife, Rachel. We just moved in with my uncle Bobby so I can help him with his business. Oh, we're, uh… we've been married almost a year, and this is our first kid," he said, gripping Rachel's hand probably too tightly. But, dammit, he hadn't expected to have to talk, at least not first. The instructor, though, was having the husbands go around and tell everyone who they are and how they felt about the whole pregnancy thing.

"How far along are you?"

"I'm about 22 weeks," Rachel answered.  
"And how are you feeling, Dean?" The instructor, Helen, was older, maybe in forties, and pretty in a kind of subdued way. Short hair, dyed a honey blonde; hazel eyes behind silver rimmed glasses; make-up subtle and professional.

A far cry from slutty waitresses and hot bartenders. He was definitely not in his element anymore.

He cleared his throat. "Oh, you know." He shifted in his chair. Glanced at Rachel. "Scared to death. I'm not, you know. Sure we're ready for this. I was lucky Bobby needed some help, and I…. You hear all these horror stories about things happening. To pregnant women or the baby. Things going wrong."

"That's normal. Everyone here is frightened of things going wrong. That's one reason we offer this classes. To soothe fears and help both parents feel ready to face what's to come."

"Yeah, uh, that's why we signed up. For some peace of mind."

"And Rachel, what about you?"

Rachel took a quick breath. "I'm, um." She pressed her lips together before getting out a small smile. "Right now, I'm mostly just nervous. Like Dean said, worried." She opened her mouth to say something else, then stopped. Shook her head, tears in her eyes.

Helen's expression softened. She gave Rachel an encouraging smile. "We'll do our best to ease your worries, Rachel," she said, like it was normal for someone to look as shook up as Rachel did. Like the other couples who'd introduced themselves hadn't been varying degrees of happy, excited, and euphoric.

"Okay, let's move on. Ben and Sally Thompson?"

The circle's attention left them in favor of the next couple.

Dean slid his arm around Rachel's shoulders. Pulled her down so her head was in the crook of his neck. Kissed the top of her head. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Next time, let's just go with your plan, though."

His plan had been to pull the instructor aside before class and give her a demon-free version of what had happened to Rachel. He'd known the minute she'd started creating their backstory she couldn't be able to pull off happy expectant mother. And he didn't want her to. Not that he didn't want her to be happy, but he didn't want her to go through this whole hunt trying to be something she wasn't. Feel something she didn't feel. There was no way it could be healthy.

"Let's just plan on there not being a next time."

She let out a tired laugh. "Yeah. That sounds good to me."

The introductions ended soon after and the class began. Despite himself, Dean found himself engrossed. Helen started by talking about the importance of relaxation and breathing, the different kinds of sensations that women experienced during pregnancy, and how to deal with discomfort and pain before and during the birth. Then she had them practice breathing, which normally Dean would have found way too New Agey for him, except…

While he held Rachel's hand, one hand pressed to her stomach, feeling the baby kicking while they breathed together, he sort of maybe kind of remembered doing this with Mom. Her sitting on the couch with him next to her, them practicing breathing together while his brother-or-sister Sammy kicked inside her tummy.

It made him feel that thing again. Where he couldn't help thinking that maybe this might not turn out all bad.

After the breathing and exercises, they took a break. Rachel went off to the bathroom and was barely gone for two seconds before Dean was besieged by three women.

"Hi, Dean?" one of them said.

His mind went blank before he conjured up her name. "Kristen, right? And Jennifer and Faith?"

Their heads bobbed, smiles on their faces. They exchanged glances before Kristen said, "Is your wife okay? She seemed really upset."

"She's… you know. Fine. It's just been a really rough time for us. Me losing my job, having to move, being pregnant. You know."

"Does she have any friends in town? Any family?" Faith asked.

"Her family's back East. And, no, she doesn't really know anyone around her."

They all let out distressed coos, immediately exchanging looks again. "She's so young, too. How old is she?"

"She's twenty-two," Dean said, feeling awkward. He and Rachel weren't the youngest in the class (there was a sixteen year old girl and her mother, and a nineteen year old couple), but Rachel, at least, was younger than these three women.

They were cooing again.

Rachel came up behind the women. "Um. Hi."

The women turned as one, and Dean was about ready to break out the holy water, because there was no way that was normal.

"Rachel! Hi, I'm Kristen, this is Jennifer and Faith. We were wondering if you were busy tomorrow."

Rachel blinked. "I…"

"We take a yoga class at Y at eleven, and then after we go for lunch. We'd love it if you'd join us." Kristen reached out. Took Rachel's hand and squeezed it. "It helps a lot to have friends going through the same thing as you are. You know, girl talk and all that."

"We'd love it if you'd joined us," Jennifer said. "I even have an extra yoga mat if you need."

"Well, I… I haven't done yoga in a while. It's safe, right?"

"Totally! It's a specially designed class for expectant mothers, and the instructor is wonderful. She never lets you go past your ability level, and everything she teaches makes you feel so good and relaxed," Kristen said. "Please, come with us."

Dean met Rachel's eyes over their heads. He raised an eyebrow.

She nodded. Gave the women a small smile. "I'd love to come. Thank you so…"

She was cut off by their collective squeal.

"It's going to be so much fun!" Faith gushed. She gave Rachel a hug. "You really are going to like it here. It's a wonderful town."

"Okay, class. Please have a seat," Helen called.

Kristen leaned in and pressed a quick kiss on Rachel's cheek. "We'll talk more after class. It's so good to meet you. You too, Dean."

Rachel looked kind of gob smacked as she and Dean sat back down. He was going to say something, but Helen was putting in a video and turning down the lights, and then there was a woman on screen panting and sweating and making horrible grunting noises as she pushed a slime covered monster out of her body, so he kind of got distracted.

It wasn't until they were driving home, Rachel leaning against the window, half asleep, that he said, "So, those women… what was up with them? Are they witches or possessed or what?"

She laughed and shook her head. "I think they're just three really enthusiastic, friendly women. I think. You heard what they said when they introduced themselves, right?"

He frowned. "Did they go before or after us? Because… I didn't listen to much more than names at either time."

"They went before us. The three of them live on the same street. Became good friend, hang out on the weekends. When they got pregnant at the same time, they got even closer. They're hoping to all go into labor at the same time."

"That's just sick."

"Well, it's weird." She sighed. "They were all so happy."

Dean looked at her. Rachel had feet pulled onto the seat, awkwardly tucked under her. Her eyes were closed, the corners of her mouth tugged downward.

He reached over and took her hand. Squeezed.

They didn't talk until they got back to Bobby's. Sam was waiting on the porch, feet on the railing, nose in a book.

"Hey, bitch," Dean said, climbing out of the car and slamming the door. "Fun night?"

Sam rolled his eyes closed his book. "Jerk. How'd class go?" The second was directed at Rachel, who was struggling to get out.

Dean jogged around the car. Helped her, taking as much as her weight as he could.

"Class was fine," she said. "Is there any meatloaf left from dinner? I'm starving."

"No, but there's ice cream." He shrugged. "I got bored, jogged into town, got ice cream, and came back. There wasn't a lot to do."

"Boyfriend not answering his phone? Sucks man." Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder as they went inside.

"Boyfriend's at a social mixer and could only talk for five minutes. He said he'd call you tomorrow, Rachel."

Rachel nodded. She was rubbing her eyes and her back as she made her way through the house. She looked exhausted. Dean was more than willing to take her upstairs and practice their homework assignment for the week: daily massages. But, they had work to do, and she was hungry, so the massage would have to wait.

"Where's Bobby?" Dean asked, pulling out the ice cream.

"Went to bed. Any suspects in the class?"

"Not really. There was this trio of creepy women who want to take Rachel to yoga with them tomorrow, but that was it."

"Creepy women?"

"Very WASP, very peppy, very friendly," Rachel said, licking her spoon. "Not evil, just middle class suburbia."

"Which you have tons of experience with." Dean squeezed her knee. "What's this about them being wasps? Because I hate bugs."

That got a laugh from Sam and a reluctant smile from Rachel.

"Not a wasp, Dean, a…"

"I know what she meant, Sam. I'm not a total idiot."

"Now boys, play nice." She lifted another spoonful of ice cream to her mouth. "Okay, so, the instructor, Helen seemed fine. She didn't strike me as being anything. And wasn't that old. Doesn't the lore say that the creature is an old woman?"

"Well, older. It doesn't say how old," Sam answered.

"I don't think it's Helen. There just wasn't anything suspicious about her. And the other people in class are all pregnant."

"I'm looking into the nurses and doctors. See if any of them popped up in the past year."

Rachel licked her spoon. Her eyes were looking off to the side, a wrinkle on her forehead.

"You thinking something?" Dean asked.

"Just that it doesn't necessarily have to be someone who works at the hospital. You might want to look into any midwives in town."

Dean tilted his head. "Wait, don't you use a midwife once the baby's being born?"

"Yeah, but you need to meet with them before. You know, to set things up, get to know them, that kind of thing. So, maybe one of the midwives or their assistants are the thing that's doing this."

"Or maybe it doesn't have anything to do with the baby business in town," Dean pointed out. "Does the lore say it works as a nurse or doctor or whatever?"

Sam shifted, looking uncomfortable. "Well, no. But it'd seem likely…"

"So, it could be anyone. It could work at a movie theater or something, just see a pregnant woman passing by. We might be looking in totally the wrong place."

"We might, but let's start with the most logical place. The only thing we know is all these women are pregnant. So, we start with doctors, nurses, childbirth instructors, um…"

"The yoga instructor," Dean said. "Anyone who works at a baby store."

"So, I'll check out the yoga instructor, and ask my new best friends what they know. And Sam, maybe tomorrow you can talk to Bobby's friend."

"Me?"

Rachel shrugged. "I don't think I should." She pressed her hand against her stomach.

Sam nodded. "Right. Yeah, I can do that. Dean, are you going to come with me, or are you going to stalk your wife?"

"You're not going to stalk me. I'll be fine. I'll be in town around people." She took his hand and squeezed it. "You don't need to look after me every minute of every day."

He doesn't say what his thinking, that the last time she hunted something on her own, she went missing for two weeks. It wasn't a fair thought. It hadn't been her fault and, let's face it, if the demon wanted her again he could just take her. There was nothing any of them could do.

"I'll go with Sam. But you keep your phone with you and on at all times."

"You too." She reached out. Wiped the corner of his mouth. "Ice cream." She offered it to Dean.

He licked her thumb, then pulled her onto his lap. "Anything else?"

"No Oh, well, Nathan did say to tell you that he ordered a scanner and wireless internet for Bobby's house. And they're coming to get it set up tomorrow, so you have to explain all that." Sam grinned. "He also said to start scanning."

"Oh, that bastard." Rachel let her head fall against Dean's shoulder. "Dean…"

"Baby doll, you are a young, beautiful, pregnant woman with big old Bambi eyes. You get to break the bad news to Bobby from here on out." He kissed her on the forehead.

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"Maybe." She pushed herself to her feet. "I'm going to bed. Night, Sam."

"Night."

When she left the kitchen, Dean went to the fridge and got a beer for him and Sam.

"So. How was it?" Sam asked. He leaned back in his chair, rolling the beer around his hand.

"Jesus fuck, Sam." He dropped into his chair. Drained half the bottle. "So, those women freaked me out. And then,   
the instructor showed a video of a woman giving birth."

Sam winced.

"No, don't." He shook his finger. "It's not… it wasn't like the movies, where you see the woman huffing and puffing and sweating and then there's a baby. This was, like, full crotchal." He held up his hands to demonstrate. "There was blood and mucus and… and a head. And then it got worse."

"How does it get worse?"

"Cause then the instructor pushed a baby through a skeleton."

"She what?"

He nodded. "She pulled out this skeleton pelvis and shoved a baby through it. Rachel is not that big. This things is going to kill her."

"No it's not." His voice was way too calm.

"I'm pretty sure it is. There's no way it's going to fit. I still don't get how it fit back there, and it was a fake baby and a rubber skeleton. Rachel's got… bones. And what if it does have horns? They're going to get caught."

"Dean." Sam leaned forward. "It doesn't have horns."

He let out a long breath. Closed his eyes. "What if…"

"Don't. Don't go down that road, Dean. She'll be fine. The baby gets through, it's how women were designed. You don't need to freak out about that. Keep focused on her and, you know, the job, and it'll be fine. Let nature do the rest."

He snorted. "You sound like the instructor."

"I had to take a health class as part of my GE's back at Stanford. We got to witness the miracle of birth."

"Firsthand?"

"Funny." Sam sipped his beer. "I changed my mind. I don't think you should come with me tomorrow to talk to Bobby's friend."

"I'm good, Sam."

"Yeah, but you're on edge. You don't need be around someone who's just lost a baby. Stalk Rachel. Or help Bobby. I got this."

Dean sighed. Finished off his beer. "Yeah, no problem. Maybe I can check out one of those baby stores. Or the movie theater or something. We got anyway to, I don't know, test people? Like EMF or holy water?"

Sam shook his head. "They're supposed to be shy and they have bloodshot eyes from staying up all night eating babies."

"Well, great. Let's add you, me and Bobby to the list then." With a sigh, Dean pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going to bed. Wake me when this is over."

"By 'over', you don't, by any chance mean after Rachel's had the baby?" Sam said dryly.

Dean grinned. "Got it in one, Sammy."

"I'm so not going to be there, Dean, don't even joke about it."

He just waved goodnight and headed upstairs.

Besides. It wasn't like he was going to let anyone else be there when Rachel had the baby. He had front row tickets that show, dammit, and it wasn't like he was going to miss it.


	15. Chapter 15

Sam found Maggie Schmidt in her office at the library. "Mrs. Schmidt?"

She looked up from her computer. "Yes?"

"Uh, hi. I'm Sam Winchester. I'm a friend of Bobby Singer."

Her face clouded. She nodded and rose from her desk. "Please, come in. He told me you might be dropping by." She waved shook his hand and closed the door behind him.

"I hope it's not too inconvenient."

"No, not at all. Have a seat." She sat on her desk. "So, are you the one with the pregnant wife?"

"No. Um, that's my brother. I'm…"

"The brother in law?"

He blushed, feeling stupid. "Yeah." He pulled out the reporter's notebook he carried on cases and flipped it open. "I'm sorry about your loss."

"Thank you." She exhaled slowly. "I'm not sure what more I can tell you. Like I said to Bobby, I had a nightmare that the baby was trying to claw its way out. There was a pressure on my stomach. But it was more. A cramp, I guess. I woke up and I saw a… bat by the window."

"Did your husband see it, too?" Sam asked.

She shook her head. "My husband…" She rubbed her eyes. "Jacob and I have been having problems. Before we got pregnant, we were thinking of separating. And then, when we found out, we talked about it and decided to give it a try. But it wasn't working."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't," she said sharply. Then she winced. "Sorry. I'm just so tired of hearing that people are sorry. They're sorry about my marriage, they're sorry I'm having a hard time with the pregnancy, they're sorry about the miscarriage." She grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk and dabbed at her eyes. "No one says anything else to me these days."

Sam looked down at his notebook. "My boyfriend was blinded a few months ago. He said pretty much the same thing."

"Oh, I'm so…" She stopped. Smiled ruefully.

He returned the smile. "Thanks. So, Mrs. Schmidt…"

"Please, call me Maggie."

"Maggie. This bat… did you see anything other than the wings?"

"You mean did I see a woman's face?" She shook her head. "All I saw were the wings. Everything else was a dark mass."

"Bobby told you what he thinks it is?"

Maggie shook her head. "I looked it up myself. You know, when I first became librarian here, I thought Bobby was just a mythology enthusiast. He'd come all the time, checking out all kinds of mythology books. Fantasy books, too. And he'd make requests from other libraries if we didn't have what he needed." She smiled, eyes distant. "About six months after I came, he started bringing me stuff. Coffee or cookies from the bakery in town. Trying to butter me up, get me to buy things. We have the most comprehensive folklore and mythology section in the state, thanks to him. After I caught on that he believed this stuff, that it was real…"

"How did you figure out it was real? Most people don't until they're attacked or something."

"Bobby may be the town drunk, but he's the wisest man I've ever me. Besides, I go to Church. I'm a believer."

Sam frowned. "Bobby's the town drunk?" Then he shook his head. "Sorry. That's not relevant. So, you know we suspect it's a Manananggal?"

"Yes. And it could be. Like I said, I didn't get a good look. But, I felt the pressure on my stomach, and there was a bruise. And my pregnancy, up until my miscarriage, was an easy one. I hadn't had any trouble."

"But you said you were having a hard time with your pregnancy."

"Emotionally. Because of the trouble with my husband. I wasn't entirely certain a baby was the best thing to bring into our lives. I was never even certain that I wanted children. Jacob and I had talked about it, of course, but we'd never really reached a decision. The pregnancy took us by surprise." She dabbed at her eyes again. "Jacob left me a couple days before I miscarried. I felt so trapped. And then…"

Sam waited, biting back his automatic I'm sorry.

After a moment, she composed herself. "I'm still not sure how I feel. At parts relieved and guilty. I shouldn't feel glad I don't have to worry about it anymore, and I'm not, but…"

"Did you talk to anyone? Before?"

"About feeling trapped?"

He nodded.

"Um, not really. It wasn't something I wanted to admit. My best friend, Paisley, knew. She might have told some of our friends, but no one seemed to know the particulars, just that I was depressed. But my marriage trouble was common knowledge. Other than that..." She cocked her head suddenly, looking like she was remembering something.

"What?"

"The day before I miscarried, I got a massage. I talked to Dawn about how I was feeling. She's the massage therapist. While I was there, I broke down sobbing, and it all came out."

"Dawn…"

"Cagas. Dawn Cagas. She works at the spa and the maternity shop. She helps out at prenatal yoga at the Y, which is where I met her."

Sam scribbled this down. "How long has she been in town?"

Maggie shook her head. "I'm not sure."

"Bobby said something about babies being born with deformities?"

She nodded, looking tired. "Most born with the deformities are stillbirth. Massive facial damage. One had its face caved in. Or their internal organs go missing. A girl at church had her baby's heart disappear. Poor girl committed suicide. She said God was punishing her for thinking about having an abortion, but she couldn't understand why it would do that to an unborn baby."

"She was unhappy about being pregnant?"

"She was fifteen."

Sam furrowed his brow. "Do you know any of the other women who went through this?"

"I…"

"Wait," he cut her off. "Let me rephrase that. Do you know if any of the other women who had miscarriages were unhappy before? Or didn't want the baby?"

Maggie rubbed her temple, gazing into the distance. "I… I'm not sure. If I hadn't seen the creature, and if my doctor hadn't said anything about miscarriages being on the upswing, I might not have noticed anything." Her eyes filled with tears again. "Do you think there's any connection?"

"I don't know." But, if there was…

He needed to get home. Talk to Dean. And Rachel. Fast.  
________________________________________

Sometimes, Dean thought he could do this. Give it all up, stay in one place. Become a mechanic, have his own shop. Sometimes he liked to pretend that one day, he'd actually do it. Every once in a while, when the job got tough or he was bored, Dean would poke around. Look for a place he could buy. Look for a business.

Not that he knew the first thing about running his own business, or really wanted to. He just wanted to work on cars. Take something that had been around forever, hadn't been taken care of, and put it back, better than new.

Bobby seemed to understand that. He never said anything when Dean disappeared to play with one of the pieces of junk in the salvage yard. If Dean started on a car, that car stayed. There were parts for it when Dean came by. Once it was done, the car got sold and the money was passed to Dean. Nothing was ever said, it was just done.

It wasn't mindless work, which was why he liked it. Fixing up a car took every inch of his concentration. Some of these things were missing so many parts, it was like trying to do a puzzle without the benefit of the picture. Or half the pieces. He needed to visualize what was missing, how to fit it together, how tight to put things.

No space in his mind for anything else.

Which was probably why he was having so much trouble with this one. A sixty-five Ford Mustang. The only car Dean had ever seen Rachel look at more than once. When they were at Bobby's, this was the one she always gravitated to, leaning on it, sitting on the hood. She never said anything, but he could tell she liked it. So. He was going to give it to her, restore it for her.

Maybe it would help. He didn't know. God, he was so messed up with what to do, he'd actually gone to Bobby for advice that morning. Right after Rachel left, he'd tracked Bobby down in the library, sat down, and said, "Rachel's depressed, and I don't know how to fix it."

Bobby's eyebrows had disappeared under his hat. "And you're asking me what to do?"

He rubbed his eyes. "I don't who to ask. Ellen and Rachel are still pissed off at each other. Rachel's parents obviously don't know what to do. I can't fix this, I can't…"

"Dean, marriage ain't about fixing problems. Sometimes you can't. You just gotta… I don't know. Be there."

"Being there is driving me crazy. It doesn't feel like it's enough."

"What does she feel?"

He shrugged. "She's says it's enough. But she's depressed."

"Do you blame her?"

"No."

"I'm sorry, boy, but you just gotta give her time."

Time wasn't enough. He had to give her something. Something that would make her smile, that would make her eyes light up. He had time to kill while she was with the Witches of Eastwick, and in the movies, they always made a big deal about how guys were supposed to buy stuff for their wives. So, he could do that.

He didn't know what to buy her, though. He'd be happy with porn and booze, but Rachel wasn't really into dirty magazines and she couldn't drink. Candy and flowers were cheesy. A book didn't seem right. She'd just gotten a new journal. Buying something for the baby would probably make her cry (although he did find a little AC/DC onesie at the baby store; he'd just keep that hidden).

She had made a comment back in Hartford about her being surprised he still was willing to have sex with her. Said she felt huge and ugly. He had no idea what she was talking about, but maybe it was a pregnancy thing. She was horny enough for sex, but pregnant enough to feel unattractive.

Then again, this was Rachel. She'd always been a little insecure about her appeal.

Which was how he found himself in the underwear part of the baby story. Maternity store, whatever.

"Can I help you?"

He should have done this online.

His face burning, he put the nursing bra he'd been holding back on the rack. "Um… no. I'm fine," he said.

The woman who'd addressed him smiled. Deep crinkles appeared around her eyes and mouth when she smiled, but somehow it just made her look more attractive. Not in a sexy way, or anything, but for an old chick, she was really pretty.

"You have the look of a frazzled father-to-be," she said.

"Yeah." He rubbed his hand over his hair. Looked around him, then back. "Um, look," he checked her nametag,   
"Dawn. My wife is… not having an easy time. Right?"

She immediately looked sympathetic. "Difficult pregnancy?"

"Something like that. She said she felt ugly, so I thought…"

"You wanted to buy her something pretty." She nodded.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "Stupid, right?"

"Not at all. A woman should feel beautiful while carrying a child. It's a happy time." She narrowed her eyes at the face Dean had made. "Not a happy time?"

"It's complicated. This just… I don't want to get into it with a stranger. I just wanted to buy something soft and… pretty. That makes her feel… you know."

"Desirable?" She gave him a knowing smile. "Come over here. We have what you need." She took his arm and guided him to the back of the sleepwear section.

Normally, he'd be kind of in awe at all the different ways they made sexy nightgowns for pregnant woman, but all he could see was one thing. It was sheer blue nightgown. There was white embroidery on top, and he could see the way it would lay against Rachel's breasts. Her skin. There was a slit up the middle, and he knew her stomach would probably poke through. There were matching panties, too, all blue lace and white thread.

She'd look great in it, and, yeah, okay, maybe this was kind of for him, too. Maybe that made him a douche. But,   
Christ, she'd be gorgeous in it.

"That one," he said, and his voice was kind of hoarse. "That one."

"Very well."

Dawn helped him find the right size before taking it up to the counter. Before he'd left, she pressed a coupon into his hand.

"I work at the spa on weekends. This is a half-off coupon for a prenatal massage. Send your wife. Let me see her. She'll feel better."

Rachel was still gone when Dean got back. He shot off a text to make sure she wasn't dead before heading out to do the one thing besides killing things that he felt he could do with any kind of skill: fixing cars.

Okay, the lingerie was for him. The car would be for her.

"Dean."

He rolled out from underneath Rachel's Mustang, realizing as he did he should probably check with Bobby before he went around thinking of it as such.

Sam was standing a few feet away, face twisted.

"You look constipated."

"Funny. So, apparently, there's a connection between these women."

"Besides them all being pregnant?" He dropped his wrench into the tool box. Grabbed a rag to wipe his hand as he pushed himself to his feet.

"They were all unhappy or conflicted about their pregnancies."

"What?"

"Maggie said she wasn't sure about having kids. And I checked a few of the others. One was a fifteen year old girl whose boyfriend took off. One woman's husband died overseas right after she found out. The rest, I'm not sure, but I'm betting they were depressed or not handling it well or something."

"Why didn't they have abortions then?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, you'd have to ask them. Don't, by the way."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not stupid, Sam." His stomach took a dive. "Shit. Rachel."

"Yeah," Sam said grimly. "She home yet?"

He shook his head. Pulled out his phone and called her.

"Hey," she answered on the first ring. There was giggling in the background.

"Where are you?" He winced; he sounded a little panicked. "Um… you know what I mean."

"Yeah. And we're on our way back. I'll be about five minutes."

"Okay. Just… be safe."

"I will. Love you."

He snapped his phone shut. "When I agreed to this job, I didn't think Rachel would be in danger." He leaned against the Mustang.

"Yeah you did."

Dean shook his head. "Not like this. Not specifically her. I mean, there's tons of pregnant women out there. But how many of them are depressed and don't want their baby?"

"Probably a lot of them." Sam took his place next to him. "We could try Maggie's church. Maybe that's where this thing is finding them all. I mean, religion is generally against abortion, right? So maybe there's a higher proportion of unhappy women. Maggie did say the fifteen year old went to her church."

"Maybe." Dean rubbed his face. "Is there any other connection?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know. Different doctors, different birthing classes."

"Maybe they saw a shrink." Dean jerked his head as he heard the rumble of an engine. A cloud of dust appeared over mounds of rusting cars.

"Thank you!" he heard Rachel say. A car door slammed. "I'll see you at class!"

"Bye!" came the eerily in-tune voices of the Stepford Witches. The engine picked up again. Started to fade.

"Dean?" Rachel called.

"Over here! Take a left at the pile with the orange and black striped car on it!"

A minute later Rachel appeared from behind the pile of cars. She was dressed in a pair of sweats and one of Dean's shirts, her hair pulled into its usual braid. She carried a water bottle and a yoga mat.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked, sliding his arm around her waist when she came near.

"I bought it on the way. I don't like the idea of borrowing someone else's mat or using a communal one. It's disgusting." She kissed his cheek.

"You're okay being covered in monster guts, but you don't want to use someone else's yoga mat?"

"People sweat during yoga. And they don't always wash their hands. People are disgusting; I'm not touching their dried bodily fluids."

Sam made a choking noise.

Rachel gave him a poisonous look. "Grow up, Winchester."

"You know, before he hooked up with your brother, he was the mature one." Dean rubbed his cheek against her hair.   
"So. Those women invite you into their evil cult or anything?"

"No. They are perfectly normal. Okay, and, yeah, that makes them a little frightening, but they're not evil. Just, three pregnant women who are very friendly and enthusiastic."

"Did they know anything?" asked Sam.

"Not really. They all go to the same church, and I guess the librarian goes there, too. They know her. I asked, saying that Bobby mentioned her. They kind of got all hushed and whispered something about marriage trouble."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. That's what she told me." He looked at Dean.

Dean tightened his hand on Rachel's arm.

"What?" She looked from brother to brother. "She say something else? You have that look on your faces."

"What look?"

"The 'something horrible is going on but we don't know what to kill yet and are probably all going to die' look.'"

Dean snorted. "I don't got a look like that."

Rachel set her jaw and glared at him.

"Okay. Sam?"

"Right. So, I talked to Maggie. She said that she was depressed and having marriage problems. She wasn't sure she wanted to have kids, and her husband left her a few days before she miscarried. And she's, like, torn about how she feels now. Like, relieved she doesn't have to worry about having a kid, but guilty because she does. There was another girl, a teenager, who miscarried, too. She didn't want the kid, but after, she committed suicide because she thought she was being punished. So, I'm thinking that might be the connection."

Dean watched Rachel while Sam talked. Her expression didn't change, but her face drained of color.

He popped open the car door. "Have a seat." He helped her sit.

"Ouch. Spring." She shifted to avoid it and Dean made a mental note to redo the inside of the car soon. "So. Two isn't a pattern. What about the other women?"

Sam shrugged. "I was going to see if any of them were seeing a psychologist. And the church. Maggie and the girl went to the same church."

Rachel groaned. "We gotta go to church?"

"It's all part of the job," Dean said. But he winced, too. He hated going to church, especially now that Pastor Jim was dead. He was the only person who'd ever made it tolerable.

"That's three days away," Rachel pointed out. "Anything else we can go on?"

"Not that I've found yet."

"Did Maggie say anything else? Besides she wasn't sure if she wanted the baby? What about her friends? Any of them older, beautiful women that she poured her heart out to?"

Sam shook his head. "Well, wait. I think she said something about telling her masseuse."

"She has her own masseuse?"

"There's a spa I guess. She was getting a prenatal massage and broke down. Told the masseuse everything she was feeling."

Dean felt a hollow pit in his stomach. "This masseuse have a name?"

"Dawn… something."

He sighed. "'cause I met her." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the half-off coupon. "I mentioned that you were depressed and she told me to send you for a massage."

Rachel took the coupon, her mouth half-open. "Where… Why… What…"

"I wanted to get you something, so I went to the baby store. Stop looking at me." His face was hot and his head kind of spun under it.

"What'd you get me?"

He looked at his toes and mumbled, "Something pretty."

She stood and put her arms around him. Kissed him softly. "Naughty pretty?"

"Gah!" Sam stomped off and shouted, "I'll go do some research on the masseuse! After bleaching my brains out!"

"Glass houses, Sam!" Rachel called back. She kissed Dean's lower lip and sucked on it gently. "So? Naughty pretty?"

He smiled against her mouth. "Yeah. Maybe you can, I don't know. Try it on a little later. Make sure it fits."

"You still want me? Even all big and… demon infested?"

His heart squeezed. He kissed her, sliding his hands down her back. Cupping her bottom and lifting her. "Babe, you're not demon infested. And nothing could stop me from wanting you."

"You're getting dangerously close to a chick-flick moment."

"Yeah, you're a chick and I'm trying to score."

Rachel kissed his neck, then pulled away. Sat in the car, scooting across the seat. "Trust me. I'm a sure thing."

Dean grinned and crawled in after her. Car wasn't done yet, but they weren't going to waste any time christening it.


	16. Chapter 16

Rachel took a deep breath and tried to settle her wildly pounding heart. Here she was, stripped down to her   
underwear and wrapped in a thick robe, waiting get a massage from a monster.  
How did she get into these situations again?

Oh, yeah. She volunteered. And argued. Swore up and down she could handle this, that she'd be fine, that she wanted to do this.

So here she was.

At least she hadn't had to go through the whole song and dance with Dean again. If she'd had to fight him yet again on this job, she didn't think she could do it. But he hadn't said anything once the decision had been made to cash in Dawn Cagas's half-off coupon.

Of course, it probably helped that she'd made the call while wearing the lingerie he'd bought her. She wasn't above playing dirty once in a while.

The door opened. "Rachel?"

She turned.

For a monster, Dawn was beautiful. Her hair was short and a salt-and-pepper gray. She had big dark eyes framed by bristled lashes. There was some wrinkles near her eyes and mouth, but they somehow only enhanced both features.

One beautiful older women overly invested in babies. Check.

"Hi. Dawn, right?"

Her smiled deepened. She closed the door and came across the room. "So, what brings you here today? Are there any specific areas you want me to work on today?"

"Um, my lower back's been aching lately. And my joints. Fingers, shoulders, hips. I went to yoga earlier this week, and I think I, like, released something because my hips have really been bugging."

"Oh, yes. We hold a lot of tension in our hips. We need to work that out before baby comes." She put her hand on Rachel's shoulder, then rubbed across her upper back. "When are you due?"

"May."

"So you have some months. Good to start taking care of the tension now, release it before baby gets bigger." She guided Rachel onto her side, stretched out on the table. Her hands were warm and strong as they rubbed circles along her spine. "Do you know if it's a boy or girl?"

"I don't know."

"You want to be surprised."

Her throat tightened. She swallowed through it. "Um, yeah. I think my husband wants to know, but we, you know. Decided."

"What do you think?"

She preferred not to. It was a demon, it was going to be taken away from her. If it didn't kill her. "I'm not sure. Dean thinks it's a girl. He's convinced it's a girl. He doesn't talk about it a lot, but every time he mentions it, I can see him wanting to say 'she.'" She groaned as Dawn hit a sore spot.

"You don't sound very happy. You don't want a daughter?" She worked on the spot, her clever, monster hands doing magic.

Rachel tried not to melt as the tension in her back started to unwind. "It's not that. A daughter would be fine, I guess. I just…" She sighed as the last bit of tightness from that one spot suddenly dissipated.

Dawn made a pleased sound. "That's it. Just relax and breathe." She continued to work, hands unerringly seeking out spots of tension and smoothing them out.

Despite herself, Rachel found herself relaxing. Her eyes fell shut and she began to drift. She knew she had a job to do, that she had to get Dawn into pulling the sob story of unhappy pregnancy that they'd come up with earlier. That she had to tempt the monster.

But, right now, it was easier just let the warm waves wash over her as all the aching places on her body were chased away by clever fingers.

_"I don't understand this deal. Won't it just make things harder for you? You know, going back?" Rachel pressed her hand flat against his chest. Felt his heart beating, steady and strong._

_He covered her hand with his. "That's what Azazel's counting on, I'm sure."_

_"What about you?"_

_He sighed. Closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. "It's not getting back on the rack I'm worried about. I can handle the torture. I'm more worried about what'll happen when Dean finds out."_

_"Yeah, well. At least you'll be dead," Rachel said bitterly. "I'm going to be there."_

_"Oh, come on, little girl. You'll be fine."_

_She pushed herself up and looked down at him. Her hair, loose, fell over her shoulder and splayed across his chest. "I'm afraid it's going to kill him. On top of everything else that's happened this year, this might be the straw, you know?"_

_He reached up. Brushed a tear off her cheek, then cupped her face in his hand. "Don't let it. Please. For me. For him. For you. Don't let it get him."_

_More tears filled her eyes even as she felt a familiar heat creeping over her. The heat, then tug in her belly. The quickening of his breath as his hands started stroking over her skin. "What is he hoping to accomplish with this?" she asked, allowing him to pull her down. "What is he after?"_

_"He's playing it close to the vest, but one of his lackey's let something slip. It sounded like…"_

"Rachel?"

She gasped, starting.

"I'm sorry." Dawn put her hand on Rachel's shoulder. At some point, she'd come around so she was in front of   
Rachel and was looking down at her with a worried expression. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I think I fell asleep."

"Good! That means you're relaxed. I'm going to have you switch to your other side. Let me help you sit up." She grasped Rachel's wrists and helped pull her into a sitting position. "Have you been sleeping?" She grabbed a tissue from a nearby table and handed it to Rachel.

Until she took it, she hadn't realized she had tears rolling down her cheeks. "Um. Uh, yeah" she answered, wiping her eyes. "I just… I get these dreams sometimes."

"Were you having one now?"

"Yeah." She sniffed. Wiped her nose. "I just get these… flashes. Really vivid, and I can remember, but not all the details. And I see him, but I can't… I know him, but I can't figure it out. I just… why can't I figure it out?" She threaded her hands through her hair and squeezed.

This wasn't the plan. This wasn't the story she and Dean had come up with. She was supposed to be telling Dawn that she had an affair, that the baby wasn't Dean's and he didn't know. That she was going crazy with guilt and so scared that Dean would leave her when he found out what she done.

But there were sobs pushing at her chest. She could still feel the warmth of the man's body against her, feel the rise and fall of his chest.

"What can't you figure out?" Dawn climbed on the table next to Rachel.

"What happened. It's like that thing, where you forget a word, but it's right there on the tip of your tongue. _Presque vu_. It's there, I'm dreaming about it, it feels like I should know…" She broke off with a shuddering gasp. Slid her hands over her stomach. Felt the baby kick inside her, the twitches and shudders as it moved.

Dawn remained silent. She rubbed Rachel's back, not massaging, just being comforting.

Rachel wiped her eyes again. "I just want this nightmare to end."

"What happened?"

"I… I was kidnapped. Drugged. And now I'm pregnant." And that was the story Dean had wanted to tell everyone in the first place. Maybe he'd been right. Simple was best.

"I'm so sorry. Does your husband know?"

She nodded. "We decided to keep it, and he's so excited. But I'm…I'm trying to be positive, but I don't think it was the right decision. I don't think… I don't know…" She trailed off, more tears spilling out of her eyes.

"Shhh," Dawn soothed. She ran her hand through Rachel's hair, caressing her scalp. "Everything works out. You just need to remember to breathe. To give yourself over to a higher power, and it will work out. I promise."

She laughed, thinking about Azazel and his plans and the tiny demon nestled inside her. "I honestly don't see how."

"No one ever does. But that's the mystery of life. It keeps going on." She kissed Rachel on top of the head and slid off the table. "So. Let's get you onto your side and we'll see about getting all those kinks out, okay?"

Rachel let out a long sigh. Nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good."

She managed to stay awake for the rest of the massage. Dawn was really good, and Rachel found herself hoping that she wasn't a monster. If she wasn't, then Rachel could come back when the baby was really making her back hurt.

"Remember," Dawn said when they were done. "It'll work out. Somehow." Then she gave Rachel a hug before ushering her out the door.

Dean in the car. He was lying across the front seat, Led Zeppelin II blaring out the windows. When Rachel opened the door, he merely lifted his head to allow her to slip inside, then rested it on her thigh.

She turned the music down to a tolerable level. "What's wrong?"

"My wife's getting rubbed down by a monster, what do you think's wrong?" He turned the music back up. "How'd it go?"

"She has the most amazing hands I have ever felt. She got rid of knots I didn't know I had. I feel fantastic." She rubbed his hair, feeling the slid of the short strands over her palm.

"The most amazing hands, huh?" He let one arm hang over the side of the seat. Wrapped his hand around her calf and rubbed it.

"Sorry, babe. But those were magic hands."

He pouted at her.

"Don't feel too bad. She's really not my type." She put free hand on his chest. Slid down to his stomach.

"So. You spill your sob story?"

"Yeah. Only, not exactly like we planned. Instead of me being a cheating whore, I had a flashback and ended up sobbing out how I didn't know who the father was because I'd been raped."

"That's what I said to say in the first place."

She rolled her eyes. "I know. You were right." She tried to bend over to kiss him on the forehead, but her stomach was in the way. Instead, she fisted his tee shirt and tugged him up.

He sat up easily and kissed her. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." She curled her hand behind his head and kissed him again. Then she pulled back to study him. Gaze into his eyes.

Dean's mouth quirked into an inquisitive half-smile. "What're you doing?"

"Can't I look at my husband and think how gorgeous he is?"

"You can look all you want, honey, but we might have to go somewhere a little more private."

She grinned. "I wouldn't mind that. But…" She hesitated.

"What?"

"You knew him."

"Who?"

"Whoever… whoever was possessed, you knew him. And he cared about you."

Dean's face creased in a frown. "Should you be telling me this?" He tucked her hair behind her ear.

Rachel shrugged. "Probably not, but… he… the demon wants you to know. Not right now, but this… I think he's planning on using it to hurt you. To hurt the man he possessed." Her eyes, already sore, filled with tears. "It's going to break your heart."

"Hey." He pulled her into his arms. "Don't. Please. You're here, you're okay. And you said this guy treated you nice, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm not going to sit around being mad at him. The demon did this. He's the one I'll focus my anger at. The guy's just, you know. Incidental." He wiped away a tear.

"I hope you feel that way when it all comes out."

His smile was a faint, pale thing compared to his usual grin. "Yeah, me too." He kissed her once again, then moved over to the driver's side. "So. You think she'll take the bait?"

"I'm not sure. I don't see why she wouldn't. I mean, she went after Maggie Schmidt's just because she wasn't sure about her marriage. This is, well. If she's really trying to confine her eating to what she perceives as unwanted fetuses, then this one definitely qualifies."

He nodded. "Okay, so. I know Sam and Bobby are staking out her house tonight to gank her bottom half. But I'd feel better if you had something, too."

"I can keep your gun."

"No." Dean started the engine. "I've been thinking. You're not bad with a machete, but you really need something that's easier for you to grip. And has better balance. There's a decent weapon shop in the next town Bobby was telling me about. I thought we should swing by and see if they have anything for you."

"I'm sure they have a whole line of ladies machetes."

He grinned. "You'd be surprised what they have these days. You game?"

"Yeah. I'm game."

"Good. Let's go get some weapons."  
________________________________________

He never should have taken her to that weapon store. But getting a new weapon always perked him up in the past. Dad, too. And Dean wanted her to have something so she could defend herself. A knife or something that was balanced to her grip and a gun she felt more comfortable with than the Glock her father had forced on her.

Only now, she was standing in front of him, reminding him of fucking Lara Croft with her brand new Beretta strapped to her thigh, her new machete strapped to her back, her stomach stretching out an AC/DC shirt he'd left at Bobby's when he was 15, hair pulled into a high ponytail, and a carton of salt in her hand.

He blinked and said, "What?"

"I said I want to go after her. It's been three days and she hasn't come. I don't know if I tipped her off or if she's biding her time or not hungry, but I can't wait anymore. So, I go to her." She shook the salt.

It was way too early in the morning for this. Dean rubbed his eyes and drained the rest of his coffee. "So this is your plan? You march into town all weaponed up and season her?"

"Well, maybe not quite like this." She propped her foot the chair next to Dean and began undoing the thigh holster. "I was just trying everything out."

"And the machete isn't too heavy?"

She glared at him.

"You're pregnant. It's not a girl thing."

This time she smirked. "I think it is."

"I mean is the weight on your back okay now that you've got a weight on your front? It doesn't bug you?"

"It's fine. Don't think I could wear it for hours or anything." She undid the straps and slid the harness from her shoulders. "But it's fine." Holding onto the table, she lowered herself into the chair to Dean. Her face twisted and she put her hand on her stomach.

He scooted forward. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. It's kicking again."

He put his hand next to her. Sure enough, there were little taps under her shirt as the baby moved.

Dean couldn't help the half-smile that broke out. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this," he said in wonder.

"Uh-huh." Her voice is flat.

"So." He rubs his hand over her stomach, trying to get the baby to stop kicking. "What exactly is your plan here? Go to the baby store, throw salt on her, and cut off her head?"

"Or something."

"In the middle of the day? I hate to break it to you, but this is a bad plan."

She nodded. "If that was my plan, it'd be a horrible one. I thought something a little less public. Like, go to her house this evening. Kind of like Sam and Bobby have been doing, but instead of just sitting there waiting for her to come to me, we go inside. Throw salt on her and try to get her to shift to her true form. Then we cut off her head and salt her bottom half."

He thought about it, still rubbing her stomach. The baby was still kicking, but lighter than before. Little taps from little feet. Feet, not hooves, no matter what Rachel thought.

It wasn't a bad plan. More like their usual methods, none of this sit and wait crap. They could get the job done and then relax or something. Finish baby classes without the threat of something eating the baby hanging over them. Or go back to Hartford. Or find a house. Or something that wasn't waiting for Rachel to be attacked in her bed so they could kill a monster.

"All right. Let's do it that was. Only, tell me why you have to go."

Her face fell. "What?"

"Why do you have to be there while we gank the monster? Sam and I can do it just fine, the two of us. You can stay home and research or scan books or, I don't, watch a movie or something."

"Why? Because hunting is man's work?"

He rolled his eyes. "It ain't pregnant girl's work, that's for sure."

Rachel slumped in her chair and closed her eyes. "I guess." She rubbed her stomach, next to Dean's hand. "I'm more tired than I thought. I haven't slept well, which is why I want to get it over with."

"So, yeah, take tonight off. Me and Sam will finish this off."

"And then we skip town? I mean, what's going to happen when a member of the community disappears with no trace? Or what if you leave a trace behind? We don't usually stay."

"Yeah, I know." He rubbed his hand over his face. He wasn't feeling so rested himself after the last few nights, and it was getting to him. Maybe he should get a few more hours of sleep. "Is there some way we can make it look like she just left? Like, I don't know. Family or something."

"Well. She is from the Philippians. We could plant a letter from her sister or something. Buy a plane ticket." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "It might be complicated, but… maybe we could get a credit card off her or something. Purchase a ticket under her name. Make it look like she packed in a hurry but didn't plan on coming back."

"Can you do it from here, or do you need to be in her actual house?"

She smiled. "You don't need me to pack a bag. And you can use her computer to purchase a plane ticket. Just make sure you get any jewelry and cash that's in the house."

"Then it's going to look like a robbery," he pointed out.

"If I was going to leave the country and possibly not come back, I'd take family jewelry and cash. I'm not saying dangly little earring from the corner store, I'm talking diamonds, rubies, gold, that sort of thing. Just throw it all in a   
suitcase along with underwear and as much clothing as you can fit. Shoes, too. We do our best to make it look like she's going to abandon everything here to go back to her country."

"And by we you mean…"

"You and Sam. I'll write the letter, though. Mom taught me and Nathan to disguise our handwriting. I just need stationery or something."

"Okay, then. You write the letter. Sam and me will go over tonight, you and Bobby will stay here. Stay armed, just in case. And then, tomorrow, if we don't get caught, you and me go to baby class."

She crinkled her nose. "You want to stick with that, huh?"

He took her hand. Rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "I think we should. It's good information."

"I'm pretty sure I can figure out how to give birth without going to a class on it."

"College girl is looking down her nose at taking a class?"

"Women have been doing this since, you know. Ever. I can figure it out. Besides, there will be doctors and nurses and people to tell me what to do when the time comes. Why waste time."

Dean sighed. Squeezed her hand. "I'm not the smartest guy, Rach. I… I don't know. I feel like I kind of want to hear what they have to say about it."

"Dean," she said, standing up. She put her hands on the side of his face, tilted it up. "Don't pull that 'not a smart guy' crap with me. I know you." Awkwardly, she tried to straddle him before giving it up and sitting sideways across his lap. "You're smarter than you give yourself credit for."

He kissed her temple. "Okay, let me try this again. That last class showed me exactly how much I don't know about this stuff. I've never seen a baby come out before. I never thought that it had to fit through your pelvis, which is bone, before. What happens if we're on the road somewhere, and you go into labor? Or… or the doctor hits his head and forgets everything? Or, I don't know, something happens and I have to figure out how to help you? I just want to know what's involved. That's it. And I think it'd be good for you, you know. To have some friends. Even if they are possible evil."

"They're not evil."

"Debatable." He kissed her. "One more class, okay? Just, you know. To see."

Rachel let out a long sigh and rested her head against Dean's. "Fine. One more class. But only after we slay the monster."

"Well, yeah. That goes without saying."


	17. Chapter 17

Rachel was brushing her teeth when her stomach suddenly contracted. Hard and uncomfortable, like a cramp that wouldn't go away. She leaned over and spat out the toothpaste, bending at the sink and breathing deeply.

It didn't stop.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." She panted a few more times, trying to breathe through it. It didn't exactly hurt, but it was strong and holding. Every muscle in her body tensed in response, even as she tried to relax.

Dean was gone. Sam, too. Off to kill the monster, slay the beast that had refused to take her as bait. She'd wanted to go to, but was voted down (three men to one woman, and it just wasn't fair that they were all ganging up on her), so she was stuck at home with Bobby.

She didn't want to call him. This wasn't a real contraction, it didn't even hurt, but she couldn't stand up straight and it was getting harder to breathe because everything was so tense and…

Her uterus relaxed suddenly. With an exhale of relief, Rachel sank to the floor. She scooted back so her back rested against the door, legs out in front of her. It wasn't going to be easy to get up, but she was too relieved that it was over to care.

She put a hand on her stomach and rubbed. "What was that about?" she asked.

It kicked. Hard. It was not happy.

"Yeah, well. Join the club." She rubbed in slow, soothing circles. This was usually Dean's job. He didn't mind talking to the thing inside her, rubbing her stomach when it kicked or moved around too much. He loved it. Rachel was just beginning to begrudgingly tolerate it.

But Dean wasn't here, and it was throwing a fit. Kicking and rolling and just… moving nonstop. "Calm down." She pressed harder.

Almost in response, another contraction hit. It was just as hard, but this time it only lasted about half as long. There was even more kicking and fit throwing in response.

Okay. So, either she was in early labor, something was wrong, or she needed to lay down. Whatever was going on, sitting alone in the bathroom wasn't helping.

It took some maneuvering, but she finally got herself to her feet. Her heart rate was elevated, and she was breathing faster than normal, she noted with a kind of clinical detachment. This was freaking her out. Great. If a couple of painless contractions and having to scoot around a bathroom to get a handhold on something got her freaked, how was she going to survive pushing the damn thing out?

Another contraction hit her as she crossed the hall to the bedroom. She grabbed the wall with one hand, her stomach with the other. "Bobby!"

It stopped, but was followed by another flurry of kicks and punches to her uterine lining.

"What the hell? You okay?" Bobby appeared at the top of the stairs, shotgun in hand. When he saw her, he lowered it.   
"You in labor?" he asked, grabbing her by the arm and leading her to her bedroom.

"No. No. Just some fake contractions and a temper tantrum." She grasped his arms gratefully as he helped lower her to the bed. He even fluffed some pillows and helped her up to them.

"Want me to call Dean?"

"No." She rubbed her stomach. "I'm fine. This happens. I just…" She broke off. Swallowed.

Bobby's face softened. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Uh. You mind if I, uh…" He glanced down at her stomach.

She nodded.

He put his hand on her stomach.

The thing inside her obligingly kicked against it, completely differently than before. It seemed less frantic, less angry.

"I think it's high fiving you." Rachel rested her head against the wall. "Can you feel it?"

"Yeah." His voice was completely un-Bobby like. Soft and wondering.

"It's probably a demon," she reminded him.

"I know." He pulled his hand away and sat back. "We wanted kids."

Rachel's heart leapt into her throat, but she cut back her cry of surprise. Her question. The exclamation of _You were married?_

Bobby scratched his beard, eyes far away. "We talked about it. Planned on it. She always said that, when they finally got here—and that's always how she said it. Like our kids were on a trip or something, and we were waiting for them to come home. Anyway, she said this house wouldn't be good to raise them in. Being in the middle of a junkyard and all. There was a house about a mile away she wanted. We'd buy that, rent this one out to whoever I had working for me. Or something. She wanted two. A little boy and a little girl. Or two boys. Two girls. Just as long as they were ours."

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. She took Bobby's hand and held it.

He looked at her, but his face was still caught in the past. "When John brought Sam and Dean here, well. It was probably the best thing that had happened to me since…" He trailed off, then shook his head. "Those boys are like sons to me."

"Yeah. I know. They know."

Bobby tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You want some warm milk? Karen used to drink that when her stomach was bothering her."

"Yeah."

"Just stay here. I'll bring it up." He rose and went to the door.

"Bobby."

He stopped and turned to look at her.

She wasn't sure what to say. She didn't know if Sam and Dean knew about Bobby's wife. She could only guess what had happened to her, why those kids had never arrived. Why there were no pictures, no real reminders of her in the house. So, she just said, "Thanks."

He nodded and left.

A wave of exhaustion swept over her. She lay down and closed her eyes, hands on her stomach. It seemed to have calmed down for now, the contractions gone, the thing inside her settled. Thank God. She didn't know what she was going to do if Dean ever had to go off on a hunt and leave her alone with this thing. It seemed to like him, to respond to his voice when it got agitated. It even seemed to like Bobby better than it did her. Of course, she went out of her way not to talk to it, which might have something to do with its seeming antipathy.

She just really didn't have anything to say to it.

Maybe she should figure something out. It was going to come out of her. Azazel had hinted he was leaving it with her. It might be wise to be at least on speaking terms with it. Maybe more, to keep it from turning evil.

God, she really was turning into Rosemary. After all, that had been her plan; raise the Devil's baby, hoping to exert some influence on his life.

She pressed her palm against the bulge. "Hush little baby, don't say a word," she sang softly.

It kicked.

Okay, maybe she couldn't do this.

Luckily, her phone rang before she got up the energy to try again. "Something go wrong?" she asked upon answering.

"See, that's just mean. Why do you automatically assume that something's gone wrong?" Dean sounded out of breath, and she could hear the Impala's engine in the background.

"Sorry, baby. So, what's new with you?"

"So, Dawn is definitely the thing we're after. And she kind of took off."

"And you didn't get her lower half?"

"She took it with her."

Rachel groaned and pushed herself up. "Did she happen to shout out where she was heading before she took off?"

"Naw, she just screamed. But, money's on you, so…"

"Son of a…." A loud crash followed Bobby's startled shout. A thump, and then another crash.

"I think she's here. I'm locking myself in the bathroom." She grabbed her machete from the bed and rushed to the bedroom door. "Oh, crap."

The Manananggal was in the hall, it's huge bat wings almost making it too big to fit through. Like Dean said, it carried the human-looking bottom half of its body, which looked even more grotesque than her fangs and grey skin and glowing eyes.

"Rachel? Rach!"

"Hurry up!" She dropped the phone as the Manananggal caught sight of her.

It hissed. Dropped its bottom half and lunged for her.

Rachel slammed the door, but it caught it before it closed all the way. Grey claws curved around the wood, pushing as Rachel leaned all her weight against the door. Strained against, fighting the monster's superior strength.

With a scream, the monster pushed. Rachel lost her grip on the door and stumbled back, hitting the bed.

Strong gusts of wind battered her in the face as the monster came inside, wings beating. It reached for her.

Rachel swung the machete. Missed. The creature reared back. She advanced, tightening her grip on her weapon. Planted herself and swung again.

A hot, black burst of blood sprayed her in the face. The creature shrieked as the machete sliced through her arm. A wing smacked Rachel in the face. Off balanced, she fell back.

"Bobby!" she screamed. She felt like a turtle, stuck on her back, legs dangling off the end of the bed. Frantically, she rolled from side to side, chopping her machete blindly in the air. She was afraid if she let go to pull herself up, it'd get her.

The Manananggal's wing pushed Rachel's arms up toward her head. Its face came into view, all probing tongue and glowing eyes. Sharp teeth and drool. The tongue unrolled, like a proboscis. Slimy and wet, it landed on Rachel's face. Trailed downwards.

"Get the hell off her!" Bobby growled. A shotgun went off. The Manananggal jerked, its tongue sliding off Rachel's body. Her wing dislodged just enough.

Screaming, Rachel brought the machete forward with as much strength as she could muster.

There was a sickening thud. The machete lodged into its skull. The Manananggal stiffened, eyes going wide.

"Arms down, Rach." Dean this time.

Rachel dropped her arms to the bed. She turned her head as Dean brought his machete through the Manananggal neck. The head landed on the floor with a thud only mildly less sickening than the sound of hers cleaving it seconds before.

"The bottom?" she gasped as the Manananggal was pulled off her.

"Sam's got it." Dean pulled her up. Kissed her, mouth frantic, hands running through her hair and over her body.   
"You okay?" He rested his forehead against hers.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Bobby?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart." He walked up behind Dean. There was a bruise on the side of his face. "Damn thing got the drop on me."

"But it's dead," Dean said. "Gone. I want it gonner."

"I'll go burn the body," Sam said. "All three parts."

"I'll help you out. You stay with her," Bobby said. He and Sam grabbed the dead creature by the wings and began dragging.

"Thanks, Bobby." He pulled Rachel to her feet. "Let's get you cleaned up."

A pain lanced through her back and side. She grimaced and sat back down.

"What? You okay?" Dean started patting her shoulders, her back, a frantic look of worry on his face that Rachel was only too familiar with.

"I'm fine," she assured him. She grasped his forearms and pulled herself up. Twisted her face as the pain came back.   
"Maybe I pulled something." She sat back down. "Okay. I'll stay here. You get me some ice and ibuprofen and something to drink."

"Sam!" Dean shouted. "I need you!"

There was a mild thump from the hall. A moment later Sam reappeared. Black, sticky blood was spread across his forehead. He looked as exhausted as Rachel felt, but he came to the bed and helped her and Dean get her aching, heavy body back to the head of the bed. He even plumped the pillows for her and dropped a kiss on her forehead before he left the room, the Manananggal's head tucked under his arm.

That was the last time Rachel saw him for two weeks.


	18. Chapter 18

"And that's why I think that frozen yogurt was invented by demons," Nathan said with a firm nod of his head. He then lifted his ice cream cone to his mouth and licked.

"Well, I still like it," Jo said. "I mean, it's a food you're expected to put toppings on. Think about it. People get plain ice cream all the time, but you order frozen yogurt, toppings are a given. And I like toppings."

"But not enough that, when you die, you'll be happy that your frozen dessert treat was frozen yogurt. In fact, I'll bet you a hundred bucks that when you're lying on your death bed, one of your last thoughts will be _I should have gotten ice cream instead of frozen yogurt."_

"And how are you going to get the money to me if I'm dead? And why will I need money in heaven?"

"More importantly, why was your last dessert fro-yo?" He flinched as something cold hit him on the cheek. "Did you just flick yogurt at me?"

She laughed in answer.

Nathan shook his head and wiped off the glob sliding down his face. "Now I'm sticky."

"I thought a sticky face was something you were used to." Her voice was sweet as poison.

"You suggesting I'm a messy eater?"

"No, I'm suggesting you get come on your face a lot."

He snorted so hard some of the ice cream went up his nose. "Ow!" he whined, rubbing the side. His fingers hit the sunglasses he wore even inside, still self-conscious about his fake eyes, even with Jo. "That was mean."

"But true. Or did I just imagine that night where I was the one that got you sticky?"

"Definitely not. I didn't imagine my sore jaw." He smiled at her, then let out a heaving sigh. "Course, it's been awhile."

"Well, I'm right here, baby," she purred.

"Dude, you spent three hours waxing poetic about my sister. I'm not gonna be your substitute fuck. Besides, I've got a boyfriend. Kind of. And I'm pretty sure he's the monogamous type. I can do monogamous."

"Sure you can. And I don't have a thing for Rachel."

"You want to be the filling in a Rachel and Dean sandwich, don't try to lie to me."

She sighed. "Well, you've seen Dean. And Rachel's just…"

"My sister. And I'd rather not listen to you talk about her hands or neck or hips anymore. It makes me feel icky." He felt ice cream dripping on his hand and quickly licked it up. It occurred to him rather belatedly that maybe he should have gotten his ice cream in a cup. It was one thing to eat an ice cream cone and talk when you could see when the ice cream was melting and catch it before it hit one's hands. It was another to just feel it melting on him while encased in a world of darkness.

Some moments passed while he tried to Hoover down his treat.

Then, from the floor, Ginger let out a huge huff. Her tags jingled as she stood. A second later, the bed shook.

"Ah, who's a good doggy?" Jo cooed. "Aren't you the most beautifulest girl?"

"Dude. Don't baby talk my dog."

She laughed. "You heard anything about Sam?"

Nathan gave up on the ice cream. He got up and crossed the room, dumping the cone in the trash. Then he turned back. "Nothing. Rachel called before you showed up to say that Dean is planning to microchip everyone and then lock us in a basement somewhere. So, you know. He's optimistic."

"And rational. I'm sure Sam's fine. He can take care of himself."

"He promised not to take off on us again, not like this. Not without telling anyone where he was going." Nathan swallowed, hating the way his voice shook. "He just disappeared. That's…."

"Nathan…"

"The last time someone disappeared, it was Rachel."

"I know." The bed thumped against the wall. Then Jo was across the room, her hand on Nathan's shoulder. "He's going to be okay."

"How do you know?" He squeezed his eyes, not wanting to cry.

Jo slid his sunglasses from his face. Pulled his face onto her shoulders and wrapped her arms around him. "I know because if this was a demon, then it's gonna want to rub Dean's face in the fact it took Sam. And, when it does, Dean's going to kick his ass, take names, and get Sam back. And then, Sam's going to come here and fuck you."  
He snorted. He clenched his fist in her shirt and held her desperately. "Promise?"

"Promise. And if he doesn't, I'll do it for him."

"Deal."

________________________________________

Rachel called him the next morning while he was on his training walk with Ginger. They'd been doing solo walks for about a week and a half, but it still made Nathan tense. Despite his happy-go-lucky attitude that he waltzed through life with, he was something of a control freak. His computer was set up in a specific way, his belongings were packed precisely when he traveled, and he prided himself on knowing his surroundings at all times. With his sight gone, the last was more limited than he preferred.

His sister had been taken in broad daylight. Sam disappeared while cleaning up a hunt. Jo had been kidnapped by a ghost. And they'd all been able to see. Not being able to glance over his shoulder to see if something was following him creeped him out. Especially since the skin on the back of his neck wouldn't stop crawling.

Rachel's ringtone started playing.

"You found him?" Nathan answered the phone, tightening his hand on the harness to get Ginger to sit.

"Yeah, he called this morning. He's in Wisconsin."

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know. Dean took off as soon as Sam called. Said he sounded shaken up. That was a few hours ago."

Someone bumped into Nathan. Apologized profusely before hurrying on. Nathan clicked his tongue at Ginger and gave her harness a shake so she'd start walking again. "So, that's it?"

"Right now, it is. I'd have gone with Dean, but he left right after Sam called. He didn't even bother to tell me until he was on the road for an hour. But I don't know if it's because Sam sounded bad or because he was being Dean." She let out a long sigh. "He is alive."

"Yeah, that's something." His lips felt numb as he said the words.

"You okay?"

"Me? I'm a daisy."

"Oh, God, your quoting _Tombstone_. I thought Jo was taking care of you. Are you not getting ice cream?"

"Jo likes frozen yogurt."

There was a long silence. Then, "Do an exorcism."

That drew a tired laugh from him. "I'll get right on that. But you do have to talk to her. She's been talking about getting a job here. Staying."

"That's good, isn't it? You'll have someone around."

"I'm doing fine. I miss Sam, but I'm making friends. But Jo's not talking to her mom, and there's no way that'll end well. She won't listen to me. Maybe she'll listen to you."

Ginger led him around a corner. Stopped in front of the Starbucks, like the well-trained doggy she was.

Rachel sighed. "I could try, but I'm still not speaking to Ellen myself."

"Yeah, about that. Stop it. Pick up the phone and call her." He clicked at Ginger again, deciding to forgo Starbucks for today.

"Nathan…"

"No, I'm serious. Who knows who's going to disappear next? Her, Jo, Bobby, you. This fighting between us needs to stop. So. Call her and make up. She was just trying to help."

She sighed again. "Will it make you feel better if I do?"

"It's why I suggested it."

"Okay. I'll call her. Talk you later?"

"Keep me updated."

"I will. Love you."

"You too." Nathan hung up. Sighed as someone bumped into him and apologized profusely before being swallowed by the surrounding din.

He missed his sister. He missed Sam. He missed seeing, but even more he missed being on his own. This school was necessary, he got that. They were way more equipped to help him adjust to his new situation than his parents or Rachel, he got that. He just needed his independence back faster.

After his walk, Nathan went back to his room to work. Even though he technically was on a leave of absence, he'd started working on his dissertation again. He'd started researching and collecting notes, but today his mind was too scattered. Jo was out doing whatever she was doing, leaving Nathan to tie himself in knots over Sam. So, he played chess online with someone in Germany and tried not to count the minutes.

________________________________________

Nathan jerked awake as his phone started playing _Womanizer_ and vibrating wildly on the nightstand.   
Heart pounding, he grabbed it, hands almost shaking as he answered. "Dean? Is Sam all right?"

"Nathan? Yeah he's fine, but I need to know how to erase a computer."

His mind was focused on Sam, so he wasn't quite sure what Dean was talking about. "I don't… I can't…"

"Nathan?" Jo said sleepily from the air mattress on the floor.

"Let me talk to him."

"Nathan, we don't have…"

"Let me talk to him!" he screamed.

There was a beat of silence.

"Nate?"

"Sam." He exhaled shakily. "Sam, are you okay?"

"I don't know." He sounded hollow and lost. "I killed a hunter. I don't remember it, but I broke in and killed him."

"What?"

"Steve Wandell. He has a daughter. And I just killed him."

"Yeah, and it all got recorded on his security system," Dean broke in. "I need to erase it."

His whole face felt numb, except his lips, which were tingling. "Just, uh… take the whole thing. With you. Bring it to me."

"Yeah, okay. Good. We'll do that."

"Is Sam okay?"

Silence. "Look, Nathan, we'll call you later, okay? Just don't worry." The line went dead.

"Nathan?" The bed shifted as Jo sat. "What's going on?"

"I wish I knew."

________________________________________

Dean didn't call back. Rachel did, but with the disheartening news that Sam had taken off again. Worse, he'd begged Dean to kill him and then, when Dean refused, knocked him out and run off.

Sam wasn't answering his phone. Dean wasn't answering calls from Nathan despite the increasingly foul-mouthed voice mails Nathan was leaving him. So, that left Nathan with no idea what was going on, feeling trapped and helpless.

He opened the door to his dorm room calling out, "Okay, Jo, I'm back. Let me shower and change and we can go get drunk."

Ginger stopped so abruptly that Nathan bumped into her. Almost fell.

A huge, warm hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him back up. "Whoa. I thought the dog was supposed to help you get around."

Nathan's breath caught. "S-sam?" But even as he said it, even as the familiar and longed-for voice washed over him, he knew. He could feel it like electricity crawling over his skin, like a gong in his skull. The amulet from his grandfather burned like an ember against his chest.

Ginger growled a low, threatening sound.

"Yeah, it's me," the demon said. He dropped his hand from Nathan's. "Uh, your dog is growling."

Duh, Nathan thought. Canines were sensitive to the supernatural. Ginger was extremely intelligent. Any demon with a modicum of sense wouldn't approach an empath with a dog, but this one was apparently really stupid.

With any luck, Nathan could use this to his advantage.

"What are you doing here?" He knelt down to unhook Ginger from her harness. She tried to lunge at Sam the second it was off, but Nathan scruffed her. Buried his face in her neck and whispered a few soothing words.

Very reluctantly, she relaxed into his arms. She was still tense, still growling, but her attack was delayed.

"Aren't you happy to see me?"

Nathan lifted his face from Ginger. Tried to hide behind her body and discreetly pull his phone from his pocket. "Of course I am. I've missed you. And I've been really worried."

The demon took him by the arm. Tugged him to his feet. "I know. Things have been crazy." It wrapped its arms around Nathan and pulled him so their bodies were flush. Its mouth ran over Nathan's forehead, back and forth. It was almost soothing.

It also trapped Nathan's arms against his body in such a way it was too awkward to work the phone.

He tried to work free. "Sam, what's going on? You said you killed someone."

Sam kissed him. No, the demon kissed him. Pulled his head back and captured his mouth, all teeth and tongue.

Ginger barked, loud and sharp.

And then the demon pushed Nathan away. He stumbled back and crashed into his desk. The sharp edge caught him in the back, knocking the air from him. Pain blossomed.

"Stupid bitch," the demon snarled.

There was another thud. And then Ginger let out a low, pained whine.

"Ginger!" Nathan pushed himself away from the desk.

"Don't even."

A dull pain blossomed across Nathan's cheek as the demon backhanded him. Unprepared, he fell against the desk again. This time, he tripped over the chair.

There was a body in it. He tried to jerk away, but his feet got tangled up and he fell face first into its lap.

"And here I thought you were supposed to be all gaga over me," the demon said. He slid his hands under Nathan's armpits and hauled him to his feet. "I'm still in the room, and you've already got your face planted in Jo's crotch. You're a bigger slut than I thought."

Oh, God. Jo.

"Just give it up," Nathan said, letting himself be pushed onto the bed. "I know you're not Sam."

The demon straddled his lap. Put their foreheads together. "What gave me away, lover? Your little dog?"

"I'm an empath, idiot. What, didn't you do your research?"

"Empath. That's like a poor man's psychic, isn't it?" It ran its hand down Nathan's arm. Forced the cell phone out of his grasp. "And what were you going to do, little empath? Were you maybe going to call Dean?"

Nathan winced as he heard the tinny ring as his phone responded to the command. He tried to push the demon away, but it was too strong. Instead, it wrapped a hand around Nathan's neck and squeezed, pushing him back on the bed.

"Oh, the things I'm going to do with you," it whispered, mouth hot on Nathan's ear. "Every dirty thought Sam's ever had about you, ever kinky fantasy that he's jacked off to, so fucking ashamed of it and so hot, I'm going to give him. I'm going to do to you, and you're going to scream and bleed and hurt and…

"Nathan?" Dean's voice is distant, canned, through the distance and the phone and the world going hazy as the air is stolen from his lungs. "Nathan, is Sam there? What's wrong?"

"Scream for him," the demon purred. It bit Nathan's ear and tugged. Tugged and pulled and, oh, God, it was ripping, Nathan could feel the skin giving and it's warm and wet and there's blood and….

The scream was torn from his throat even as his ear was being pulled off. He couldn't take it back, couldn't stay stoic, and God, how many times was he going to scream for these fucking demons and were they going to leave him with any sense left?

"Get the fuck off him!" he hear Jo shout over his own desperate screams.

The demon laughed, Sam's laugh, deep and delighted. Its teeth let go of Nathan's ear and took his lips instead.

Nathan tasted blood. He gagged against the tongue wedged in his mouth.

And then the demon climbed off. "You know, Joanna Beth, I thought about doing you first. Let Nathan listen to you dying, to your pathetic little noises. I thought about making him listen to you beg for your life. How horrible would it be for him to imagine what it looked like. Because I know what a vivid imagination he has, and it would be horrible for him."

"So do it, then." Jo's voice trembled. "Kill me. Torture me."

"Leave him alone?" the demon mocked. "You're so noble. Give it up, Jo. You'll never be as good as your mom. You'll never be the hunter she is. You'll never be a tough. You'll always be a scared, confused little girl, missing your daddy and pining after a couple who are so sickeningly in love with each other, they've never given you a second look."

"So not true," Nathan said. He got to his feet shakily, feeling sick. Blood still poured from his injured ear, but it was still intact, and there was still a demon in his boyfriend. "I know for a fact that Rachel's thought about it. And Dean's thought about you and Rachel together."

"You wanna play some more?" The demon grabbed Nathan. Pulled him across the room and shoved him onto Jo. "Cause I'm planning on going all night with you. I want to save you, because you're the boy who managed to convince Sam Winchester he might like cock. And, believe me, we all thank you for demonstrating once and for all how easy it is to talk Sam into trying new things." The mouth was back at his ear. "It'll make things to come so much easier."

Nathan lunged, but the demon easily held him down. "Come on, little boy. What games do you think you're playing at? I ten times your size." It pulled back.

"So, who are you, anyway? The thing that raped my sister?"

It laughed. "Your sister begged for it."

"Fuck you!"

"You know four languages and that's the best you can come up with?" It grabbed Nathan's head. Tilted it back and shoved a gag into his mouth. "And, no, I'm not the one who knocked her up. That would be my daddy, and, despite what they say about sibling rivalry, I'm kind of looking forward to my new little…"

There was a loud bang. The door flinging open.

"Sam!" Dean shouted.

"I begged you to stop me, Dean," the demon suddenly said, voice pure, desperate Sam. "I told you I can't fight it! My head feels like it's on fire, all right? Dean. Kill me, or I'm going to kill them. Please. You've be doing me a favor! Shoot me."

Nathan tried to shout, to tell Dean what was going on, because obviously he hadn't heard on the phone. The gag took his words, though, and under him, it sounded like Jo was having the same trouble.

Ginger started barking wildly from the closet. The doors shook as she flung her body against it.

The demon held Nathan down with a hand to his head. When Nathan tried to buck against it, he could feel the gun pointed at his skull, inches away.

"No, Sammy, come on."

_Why are you so fucking stupid, Dean!_ Nathan wailed. He continued to struggle against the demon.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Dean?" The desperation was gone, replaced by rage. "Are you that scared of being alone that you'd rather let Jo and Nathan die?"

Silence. And then…

"Shit!"

Nathan flinched as water hit him. He could hear sizzling as the demon's flesh burned.

"That's holy water, you demonic son of a bitch!"

More water hit Nathan. There was a terrific crash, and then the demon fell against him. Ginger's body hit all three, the force knocking Nathan an Jo to the ground. He could hear her snarls, hear the demon under her.

Ginger was shoved on top of him. The window crashed.

Nathan grabbed his dog and held, trying to keep her from going after the demon. A moment later, the gag was ripped from his mouth, and he sat up, coughing. "Ginger, down!"

She froze at the command, her body tense. There was a moment where her muscles seemed to tense, ready to leap.

"Ginger!"

She let out a breath. Sat and began licking his face.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." He pushed Ginger's face away, not wanting dog germs in his cut. "Jo?"

"I'm fine." She put her arms around Nathan. "So he's been possessed this whole time?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. Nathan, I'm going to look at your ear." He put his hands on Nathan's face and turned his head. "I should have known right away. But I didn't want…" He stopped talking.

There was an awkward silence before Jo said, "Why does it want you to kill Sam?"

"I don't know what it wants, but it's killing hunters. I know that much." He sighed. "You should probably go to the hospital. I think it needs stitches."

Nathan swallowed and nodded. The shock of what had happened was setting in and he was feeling numb. Numb and cold. He wanted to curl up and cry.

"Where's he going now? I mean…" Jo trailed off.

"I don't know. I'm tracking him with his cell phone. I mean, it wants to be found, wants me to follow it. But…"

"Rachel."

"What?" There's a hard, almost panicked edge in Dean's voice at the mention of his wife's name.

"It said it's excite about the baby. That they're siblings. It's going to Rachel."

"You have a car, Jo?"

"Yeah. I'll take care of Nathan. You go." Jo tugged at Nathan, helping him to his feet.

"I'll call." And then Dean's pounding footsteps signaled his exit.

Nathan turned to Jo, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck. "Did it hurt you?"

"No, babe, I'm fine." She stroked his back. Kissed his forehead. "What about you?"

He didn't answer. He just clung to her and prayed.


	19. Chapter 19

Dean pulled to a stop in front of the run-down, two story house Rachel had directed him to. For a second, he sat and looked at it, wondering what the hell she was thinking. She'd been at Bobby's, safe with Bobby when Dean had called to warn her about the demon possessing Sam. And yet, somehow, in the hours it'd taken him to get to Sioux Falls and her, she'd left Bobby's safe, heavily warded and defended house, for this place.

The lopsided screen door banged open, and Rachel came out.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean demanded. He slammed the door to the Impala shut for emphasis.

"Bobby's got the demon tied up and in a devil's trap. I'm fine."

"Why are you here? Why aren't you at Bobby's?"

She smiled. It look shaky and unsure. "Surprise. I bought us a house."

He stopped on the badly sagging bottom step. "What?"

"It's crazy, I know, but Bobby told me about the place and how his wife it, and it was here and empty and I thought that it was close to Bobby's, and it's got a yard and a tree and…"

"You bought a house?"

Rachel looked down. "Yeah."

He shook his head, wondering if this was crazy felt like. "My brother disappears and turns up possessed by a demon, and you go out and buy a house?"

"Yes." Her voice is sharp, now, eyes hard as she whipped her head up to glare at him.

Okay, this was too confusing right now. First things first. "Okay, whatever." He finished climbing onto the porch, which was clearly eaten through by termites, and pulled her into his arms. "I can't even begin to explain you and your thought process, even to myself."

"Well, you're the one who married me."

Dean kissed her. "We'll talk about this later." He kissed her again, taking strength and solace from her warm mouth and her hands on his face.

"You don't have to come in," Rachel whispered, stroking her fingers through his hair. "Bobby and I can exorcise it."

"No. No, I have a few questions." He pulled away from Rachel and stalked into the house.

"Dean!" the demon crowed. "Glad you could finally join the party. I was wondering when you'd get here." It smirked. "How's little Nathan? Were they able to save his ear?"

Dean ignored the question as he marched to the edge of the Devil's trap. There was a bucket of holy water next to Bobby, who had a shotgun trained the demon.

"You're glad to see me? Great. 'cause I'm here to tell you that whatever stupid little plan you and daddy are cooking up, it ain't going to work. You're not getting Sam." He picked up the bucket and threw it on the demon.

It screamed, throwing its head back as steam hissed from its skin.

"Careful, Dean," Rachel said, coming up next to him. "That's still Sam's body."

"Oh, believe me. This won't hurt him." He put the bucket down. "Still glad to see me?"

The demon panted a couple times, then looked up, grin plastered on his brother's face. "Oh, you have no idea, Dean. I have been waiting for this moment for so long. Do have any idea what it's like in hell, Dean? How different time is?"

"Don't know, don't care."

"Oh, but you do. You sent me that prison, a prison made a bone and flesh and fear, thirteen months ago in your time. For me? It's been years. Decades."

"Meg?" he said, startled. He hadn't exorcised many demons in his life, and he really had never expected to run into one he had again.

"Used to be. Not anymore. Now I'm Sam." It winked and wiggled his shoulders. "It's been over a hundred years, Dean. Years of me being pulled apart and put together again, but I crawled out for one reason and one reason alone. Because my daddy told me that if I could make it, if I could escape again and take Sam Winchester as my meat puppet, I'd get to be the one to ruin your life."

It was going to kill Sam in front of him. But it couldn't, it was tied up.

It was bluffing. It was being a demon, demons lied. They blustered and dug and poked and picked away at you until you felt like crap. And Dean wasn't going to fall for it.

"Bobby?"

Bobby nodded. " _Exorcisamus te, omnes in mundus spiritus, omnes satanica potestas, omnes incursion_ ," he chanted.

The room began to shake. The demon threw its head back and screamed, black smoke pulling from its mouth.

Rachel grabbed Dean's hand and squeezed.

And then, the demon started laughing. Laughing wildly, the black smoke disappearing back into its body.

Bobby stopped.

"Oops. Doesn't seem to be working."

"Bobby?"

"He's got a binding mark," Bobby said. "He's locked himself into Sam's body."

"That's right. I didn't want you throwing me out before we got to the best part. In fact…" The demon… Meg, because while the voice was Sam, the tone was pure Meg, threw its head back again. Screamed.

The house shook. The ceiling and floor buckled.

"Shit!" Dean swore as the Devil's Trap cracked. "Bobby, take Rachel!" he shouted, pushing Rachel away. The noise of the old house falling apart battled with his heart, his panic as he tried to usher Rachel out, as Bobby grabbed her arm and pulled…

And then Bobby was torn away and thrown across the room. He hit a wall and fucking crashed through it, and what the fuck kind of house had Rachel bought, anyway?

"Rachel, run!" Dean shouted, a second before he felt the horrifyingly familiar iron hands of a demon. It pulled him from Rachel and pinned him to a wall, frozen.

"Not so fast, Rachel. Have a seat."

There was a screeching of wood against wood. Rachel cried out.

"Rachel?"

"Oh, she's fine, Dean." The iron hands turned Dean around, keeping him against the wall. "At this stage of the pregnancy, it's best if she be sitting, right? Especially after hurting herself a few weeks ago. My daddy'd be upset if anything happened to her." Meg cocked her head, looking like something had just occurred to her. "And so would your daddy."

Dean looked at her, uncomprehending. "What?"

She twirled—an amazing feat considering Sam's height and bulk—to look at Rachel. "And you. I'm really looking forward to killing you after you pop that sucker out. I think Dad wants to keep you around, but it's a mistake. You're not part of the plan, and he's gone far enough off book already. But he's my dad, so I'll wait. I mean, Dean, you get it, right?" Meg turned back. Walked over to Dean. "You're Daddy's good little solider, after all. Always ready to follow orders. Do whatever your dad says." She put her hand on Dean's stomach and caressed.

"Dude, you're in my brother's body," Dean managed to grit out.

She laughed. "You loved John Winchester. With all your heart. And look at how he repaid that love." She pulled her hand away.

"You're not making any sense."

Rachel gasped. "Oh God."

"Rachel?"

She was doubled over, one arm around her stomach. Her free hand pressed against her eyes and she rocked back and forth.

"Rachel, what's wrong? Did you hurt her, you bitch?" he screamed at Meg.

"I didn't touch her, Dean. But the little door in her little head just opened and out the memories came."

"Come on, baby, talk to me. Rachel?"

She looked up, her eyes red and wet. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know what else to do. He didn't know what else to do, and, God, Dean, all he wanted was to protect you. I swear, that was it. He didn't want you to lose me like that. He thought it would be better for…"

"What are you talking about, Rachel? You're freaking me out."

"It was John!" she screamed. She awkwardly pushed herself to standing. "Your father made a deal with Azazel. He would raise John so he could save me from the troll, and he all he had to do was get me pregnant. And John thought… he didn't want to have to watch it all. Not me getting killed, not you finding me. He thought we'd be able to figure something out, but there was nothing… and then we activated the lust spell, and we couldn't…"

Dean's heart plummeted. Even before the words fully sank in, before he really got what Rachel was saying, he felt them.

And then, he got it. And it was like someone had reached inside him and pulled out his spine. Like he was being ripped apart, because his dad and his wife. And, God, his little girl was his sister and not his daughter and when was he going to have something of his own?

The demon was laughing like it'd just heard the punchline to the world's best joke. And maybe it had. Dean Winchester, ladies and gentlemen. Fate's bitch.

"Dean," Rachel gasped. "Dean, please, say something."

"Like what?" he asked hoarsely. "What am I supposed to say?"

"Why don't you say how disgusting she is. How you could never touch her now, Daddy's sloppy seconds," Meg suggested. "How about…"

"How about you shut the fuck up," Bobby growled. He grabbed the demon's arm and yanked. Laid silver knife on the mark branded into Sam's skin and sliced.

Meg howled. She threw her head back, screaming. Black smoke vomited from Sam's mouth, hitting the ceiling in a black mushroom before it sucked itself up the chimney.

Sam staggered. Fell and landed hard on his butt.

Dean fell forward, the demon's hold broken. He took a few steps, hands out to catch himself if he fell. "Sammy?"

His brother blinked, looking around him. There was a dumb, confused-puppy look on his face. "Did I miss anything?" he asked.

Dean gaped at him, wondering what he was supposed to say. He had no clue how much Sam had missed, what Meg had made him see. If Sam was even okay, or if there was something more they were supposed to do. Fuck, Meg could have killed Sam for all Dean knew; she could have been walking around with Sam bleeding to death.

"Hey, idjit!" Bobby's voice broke in to Dean's panicky thoughts. "Go after your wife."

He looked around. Rachel was gone.

Bobby pointed out the door, looking like he was going to turn his shotgun on Dean if he didn't get moving.

He got moving.

The idiot was sitting on the ground near the tree. The grass was completely dead, mostly dust, and she hadn't been able to stand up on her own since she hurt her back hunting the Manananggal. But she was crying like her heart was broken, sobbing, bent over, face in the dust, so Dean wasn't going to go too hard on her. 

He crossed the yard and sat down. "You're going to hurt yourself," he said.

She pushed herself up. Her face was bright red, dusty and tear-streaked. Her nose ran and her eyes overflowed and she looked miserable. "Dean," she whispered.

"Don't." It came out harsher than he meant it too. He winced. "Sorry."

"I deserve it."

"Rach…" He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I don't… I mean, you were still put in an impossible situation. You were kidnapped. You were raped. I don't… I don't blame you."

"I haven't told you everything." Her voice broke. "I didn't tell you about the hospital."

"The hospital?"

"When your dad made the deal to bring you back, at first, Azazel tried to bargain the same thing. Me and a baby for your life. But John turned it down. That's when Azazel said he had to die. A life for a life. But I… I felt so guilty. That your dad would give his life up because he was trying to protect me and my virtue. So, right before he died, I tried to change his mind."

Dean's fingernails made crescents in his palm as he clenched his fist. "And?"

"He said. Dean, he turned me down, but Azazel came back and… taunted me." She licked her lips. Sniffed and wiped her nose on her shirt sleeve. "That's why I was afraid to sleep with you. He said he'd find a way to infect a baby."

Well, that made sense. Even after they'd started having sex, she'd always been a stickler about birth control. She took the Pill, had a diaphragm and spermicide. When she was ovulating, she always made him wear a condom, too, which he'd tried to argue, but she stood firm on the no penetrative sex stuff. Now he got why.

"You should have told me."

"I know," she whispered. "But I was afraid…" She trailed off.

He sighed. Reached out for her hand, but when he touched her, she pulled away.

"Rachel…"

"No." She broke into a fresh round of tears. "I'm a whore."

"No. Christ, Rachel, you were forced."

She shook her head. "No. Your dad… After he got me out of the cave, we didn't… not for a week. Dean, I'm the one that said yes. I made the first move."

"But…"

"He'd been down there for so long. Meg was right, time moves differently there, and he was so tired. And he knew that, as soon as it was over, he was going back and it was going to be that much harder, but he said…" She covered her eyes. "He said that he didn't know what would be worse, having to watch you mourn me, or watch you find this out. He figured he'd taken enough from you, that you'd lost enough… And he was talking about Mary and how much he loved her and how he wished he could do it over and again for you and Sam and I… I just wanted him to stop. So I kissed him." Rachel inhaled shakily and dropped her hands. "And that activated the lust spell. After that, we couldn't stop."

And that was too much information.

But, he did have one question. "Rachel, if you hadn't… You know. What would have happened?"

She threw her hands up. There was a helpless, frightened look on her face that Dean hated and would do anything to get rid of.

"If John and I hadn't, then Azazel would have come sooner. He came anyway, on the last day. Took over John's body and… And that's why I was hurt so bad. But that's why I remember being with someone I cared about before. Dean…"

"Don't say you're sorry. It's not…"

She covered her ears and bent over double again. Her entire body was shaking, fully body sobs rocking her until she was coughing and panting and choking for air.

"Fuck." He stood and pulled her up. "Jesus, you've gotten heavy," he said as he started walking to the car. "And you need to calm down."

"Dean, I can't…"

"Just, don't right now, okay? Just settle down, stop crying, and we'll deal with it later."

Sam and Bobby were at the car, both looking awkward. "I, uh, called her parents," Sam said as he opened the back door. "Her mom's flying out this evening."

Dean nodded. "You okay?"

He shrugged. Shook his head. "No."

Dean forced a crooked smile on his face. "Fantastic."


	20. Chapter 20

Sam's stomach lurched when he saw Nathan emerge from the airport terminal alongside his mother. In retrospect, he shouldn't have been surprised. It was Nathan. Nathan, who'd somehow managed to break-up and bring them closer together in the same breath. Who'd hunted through a thrift store and found his sister's clothes. Who'd broken a keyless code in a romance book.

He was an Adams. Of course he'd flown across the country to be with his sister a day after he'd almost had his ear ripped off by a demon.

"Hi, Sam," Janet said when she, Nathan, and Jo reached him. She smiled, looking weary and sad. "How's Rachel?"

"She's okay, relatively speaking." He took her bag from her and slung it on his shoulder. "When I left, she was in bed, crying. I don't know if she's stopped." He looked warily at the dog, who was sniffing his hand. He could remember it from when he was possessed, and wasn't looking forward to being attacked again if it decided he was still dangerous.

Although, truthfully, Jo looked like she was the bigger threat. She was glaring at Sam and fingering the crucifix hanging from her necklace.

He tentatively smiled at her. "Hey, Jo."

"You really okay now, or is this just another trick?" she asked.

"Uh…"

"He's fine, Jo," Nathan interrupted. "Down."

A lump rose to Sam's throat. "Nathan…"

"Can we do the whole song and dance after we get to Bobby's?" he asked with a soft smile.

Sam swallowed. Nodded. "Yeah. That'd be good."

The drive to Bobby's was tense. Sam tried to fill in what he understood about what Rachel had remembered, which, considering he was hearing it third hand through Bobby while dealing with a demon-possession hangover, it wasn't all that clear to him.

"The demon, whose name is Azazel, somehow brought my dad out of hell and into his body, even though we burned it."

"I looked Azazel up," Nathan said. "Some accounts have him as a fallen angel, not just a demon. I think an angel would have the power to recreate a body if they had enough DNA."

Sam flicked his gaze to Nathan in the rearview mirror. "Did you just use the words _angel_ and _DNA_ in the same sentence?"

Nathan grinned. "I'm sure angels knew what DNA was before we did. I mean, they're angels."

"But he's a fallen angel. If he really is one."

Nathan just shrugged.

"But why?" Janet said. "That's what I don't understand. You said that your father bargained his life for Dean's. If Azazel wanted John dead, why bring him back?"

"I guess his original offer was to bring Dean back in exchange for getting Rachel pregnant."

"What the hell? This thing baby-obsessed?" Jo said.

"He told Rachel that he needed a human to incubate his offspring."

"That's a lie. While there are some creatures that do use humans, neither demons nor fallen angels are one of them," Janet said.

Sam nodded. "Well, uh. The demon who possessed me? She said something about Azazel going off book. That Rachel wasn't part of the plan. I'm not sure if she meant the whole pregnancy thing or Azazel keeping Rachel alive after the baby's born, but… I don't know. I got this feeling that there's something not quite right about this whole thing."

"And understatement of the year award goes to Sam Winchester," Jo said dryly.

He rolled his eyes. "I meant even by demon standards. There's something happening that's not according to whatever their plan is."

"Did sharing a body with that bitch leave any clue?" asked Jo.

He shook his head.

"Well," Janet said after a short silence, "at least we know its name now. Maybe we'll figure it out before…" She trailed off, leaving the two most obvious choices—the baby is born or it's too late—unsaid.

Bobby met them outside with an almost bashful smile at Janet and a huge hug for Jo. He gave Nathan a slap on the arm and grunted at the dog before leading Janet and Jo inside.

Nathan turned to Sam. "So."

Sam let out a shaky breath. "So." He looked down at the dog, who was sitting at Nathan's feet, tail thumping. "How come she's not attacking me?"

"It's not you she doesn't like. She could sense the demon."

"Oh. Smart dog."

"Most working dogs can sense those kind of things. You know, drug sniffing dogs or hunting ones. They're trained to be perceptive." He dug his toe into the ground. "You want to break up, don't you?"

"You don't?"

He shrugged. "You aren't the one who hurt me."

"Yeah, but…"

"No, it's really clear to me. It wasn't you. It was never you. I thought it was you for maybe half a second before I felt that demon possessing you, and while everything was happening, I never felt it was you." He stepped toward Sam.   
Wrapped his hand around Sam's wrist and caressed. "I'm still in total crush mode over you. I still want to talk to you and kiss you. I want to eventually have sex."

"I bit off your ear."

"The demon did that."

"But…" Sam squeezed his eyes shut. "I could taste the blood. She made me…"

Nathan tilted his head. "Did you like it?"

"No. I just mean… you may have known the difference, but she made me feel everything I… she did to you. I could feel your heart pounding and the skin ripping. I heard you scream and, God, Nathan, I don't ever want to hear that again."

He nodded. Licked his lips. "And do you really think that breaking up with me will stop that from happening?"

"This demon is hurting people I love!" He tried to bite back the words as they left his mouth, but they were gone. Out there, hanging in the air.

Nathan's cheeks turned pink. He ducked his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "Um… um, okay. I get that. But, Sam, hear me out here, okay?"

"Okay."

He looked back up. "You're right. Azazel is after you. He wants something from you, and wants it badly. He seems to really like making you and Dean suffer. Like it's his hobby. But, do you really think it's going to stop if you break up with me? If Dean were to leave Rachel and the two of you take off? Do you really think that appearances are going to be enough? Because, let's face it, Sam, you aren't going to stop caring for me just because we aren't officially together. And you're still going to feel like crap when Azazel and all his minions come after me."

"They won't…"

"Why wouldn't they, Sam? Unless you meet someone else and fall for them, I'm a target. And, even if you do, I'll probably still be a target because you care, and that's not going to change." He shrugged again. "If you break up with me, you're just making yourself suffer for no reason. Or, you know," he said, looking suddenly flustered.

Sam pulled him closer. Put his hand under Nathan's chin and tilted his head back. "Suffer sounds about right," he whispered before he kissed Nathan.

Nathan let go of the dog harness and wrapped his arms around Sam's neck. His body pressed to Sam's, rising to his toes, pulling Sam down. He kissed hungrily, tongue pushing against Sam's, hands stroking Sam's neck and threading through his hair.

Sam groaned. Tugged Nathan closer. Up, off the ground. A few steps and they were at the car, Nathan pressed against it. "I've missed you," Sam breathed against Nathan's mouth. He hauled Nathan onto the hood.

"Me, too." Nathan wrapped his legs around Sam's waist and tugged. "God, Sam…"

Ginger barked once.

"Shut up, Ginger!"

She barked again.

"I swear, I'm not possessed," Sam groaned as his hand scrabbled at Nathan's hem, tugging up. "What's her problem?"

"Let me unhook her. Then you can ravish me against your brother's car while my mom is just a few feet away."  
He sounded totally serious.

Sam pressed a kiss to Nathan's temple. "Okay, so, let's get your dog settled, find out what's going on with Rachel, and postpone this until bedtime?"

"It's three in the morning!" Nathan pouted. "I want you now."

"I don't want our reunion to take place on top of a car." He hooked his finger under Nathan's chin. "It's been a long day.

Nathan sigh. "Why does everyone object to my sexy talk?"

Sam laughed. Threaded his fingers through Nathan and pulled him off the car. "Come on. Let's get ready for bed."

________________________________________

Rachel hadn't known it was possible to feel so much pain and feel so dead at the same time. She'd been sad before, but this was different. This was like a hole in her stomach, an empty, hollow feeling. It spread through her, making her limbs heavy, her face numb. She had no energy to do anything, not eat, not sleep. She just lay there, tears sliding down her face, staring blankly at the wall.

She'd been like this for hours. And Dean? Dean hadn't left her alone the whole time. He'd brought her back to Bobby's. Sat with her in the living room until she tried to go upstairs and discovered why it was a bad idea to sit on the ground while pregnant with a hurt back. Then, he'd half helped, half carried her to their room. He'd brought her dinner. Water. Tea. He'd helped her to the bathroom. Helped her change into pajamas. Even when she'd halfheartedly tried to send him away, he hadn't left.

And now he was stretched on the bed next to her, dressed in sweats and a tee shirt, his socked feet bouncing in time with the background music on TV.

His weight on the bed was comforting in a way she didn't want to be comforted. So was his body heat. She wanted nothing more than to roll over and let him hold her, to take strength from him.

But she couldn't. She didn't deserve to.

She was a whore.

"Okay, this is what I don't understand. How could the guy not only survive getting his hand cut off, but get through the operation without anesthetic, then kill the doctor? I mean, he should have passed out at some point from the blood loss. And how incompetent is this doctor anyway that he can't figure out a way to kill the guy who's already half dead?"

Rachel sniffed. Wiped nose, which was sore from wiping it constantly.

She didn't understand why Dean was being so nice to her. Why he was in the same bed as she was. He should be disgusted. She'd slept with his father. She was pregnant with demon spawn.

He should just kill her already and be done with it.

Someone knocked on the bedroom door.

Dean slid down the bed, his feet landing on the floor with an audible thump. As he went to the door, he switched off the TV. "Hey, Janet. Jo."

"Hi, Dean. How's Rachel?"

Rachel thought about sitting up and looking at her mother, but it would take more strength than she currently had. So she continued to lie there.

"She's, well. I don't know. Upset." He cleared his throat. "Um, I'll go downstairs."

"Thanks." The door closed and two sets of feet crossed the room.

"Hi, Rachel." Her mom sat on the bed near Rachel's head. She put her hand on top of Rachel's head. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She sniffed. "No."

Jo climbed onto Dean's place on the bed. Ran her fingers through Rachel's hair, pulling it away from her face. "You don't look it. Which is too bad because I just flew across country with your brother, and the only thing I had to look forward to was your pretty face. And you're failing big time."

"Jo," Janet scolded gently, but Rachel actually managed a small smile.

"Help me sit up," she asked.

She hadn't realized how big and awkward she had gotten until today. Yeah, hurting her back had made her feel off balanced before, but it was different now. Two weeks, and she felt like she'd gone from manageable to whale.

She groaned as she sat up and settled back against the pillows Jo and her mother propped up for her. The baby started kicking and punching almost immediately, like it had been waiting for hours to express its displeasure at the lack of moment happening.

"Thank you for coming, Mom. Jo." She sniffed and rubbed at her stomach. "Can we go home now?"

Janet tucked a strand of hair behind Rachel's ear. "You want to run away, or is Dean coming with us?"

Her head ached from so much crying, and she could feel how puffy her eyes were, but more tears came anyway. "I'm not running away. I'm surrendering. I'm giving up. I cheated on Dean. I slept with his father. I can't… I can't stay here anymore."

"You didn't cheat on Dean."

"Mom, I did." Her voice cracks and snot drips from her nose. "I remember is so clearly. I kissed John. I reached for him. I made the first move. He didn't… he wouldn't…"

Her mother put her arm around Rachel's shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. "It wasn't cheating. You were kidnapped. You were being held captive and had the threat of rape being held over you. You didn't cheat."

"But maybe I would have. I can't… John is… he was… and I was attracted to him."

"Of course you were," Jo said. She rubbed Rachel's back. "The man was sex on wheels. I've been in love with him since I was seven. I honestly thought I was going to lose my virginity to him. I had it all planned out. And he didn't help any, being all dark and mysterious and scruffy. He was so nice to me. He'd be mean and snappy with Mom and get into fights with the other hunters in the bar, but he was so nice to me. Always listened to what I was saying, or had something for me. Stupid things, like a candy bar or key chain. He got me this necklace for my fifteenth birthday. Stupid little thing that you can pick up at a tourist trap. Had my birthstone on it. I wore every day for two years." She sighed. "No one blames you for being attracted to him. It just means you're human. It doesn't make you a cheater."

"I feel like I cheated. I enjoyed every minute I had with John." And that was the worst part. It had taken a week for Rachel to kiss him, a week of awkward conversations that morphed and grew into something serious, something special. John told her things about Mary, about their life, that he hadn't told anyone, not even the boys, before. He'd been open with her, vulnerable, because, as he said, after being eviscerated every day for a hundred years, sharing a few secrets and memories wasn't as scary as it used to be.

"I think… a think a part of me loves him," she whispered.

Her mother sighed. "You haven't done anything wrong, Rachel. Not in being with John. Not in loving him. Because you wouldn't have slept with John if the demon hadn't put both of you in that cabin."

Rachel squeezed her sore eyes shut. Wrapped her arms around her mom and held her tight.

She didn't know how Dean could ever want her now.

They stayed there a long time. She felt fuzzy headed and sleepy, calmer now that her mother was here. The pressure she'd felt before, when Dean had been in the room, was gone. Because, before, there wasn't any way to process what was had happened. Not with Dean in the same room. Now that he was gone…

Deep down, Rachel knew that she wasn't being fair, not to herself or Dean or John. What had happened hadn't been cheating, exactly. The guilt wasn't coming from what she'd done.

It was what she'd felt.

Way back, another lifetime ago, when John had woken up in the hospital, she'd felt it. The way he looked at her had zinged through her. Embarrassed her, made her flustered. She'd never admitted it to anyone, not Dean, hardly even to herself, but she'd felt… special. She'd liked it.

John had looked at her like he knew her. Like he'd been waiting for her.

It'd been the same at the cabin. When Rachel had finally broke under John's pain, had reached for him and kissed him…

He'd put so much into kissing her back, it'd been almost overwhelming. His hands clutched at her like he was afraid she was going to disappear.

He made love to her the same way Dean had their first time: with an almost desperate need to reassure himself she was really there. That this wasn't a trick, wasn't a dream. That she was there.

She had no idea what she had done to cause such a reaction in him. At first, she thought that maybe he was thinking of Mary when they had sex, but some of the things he said and the way he talked about Mary in their quiet moments had changed her mind. There was no doubt, not to either of them, that Mary was the love of John's life and Dean Rachel's, but somehow, for some reason, John cared about her, too.

To be wanted the way John had wanted her… to be needed… it was irresistible. In the week they'd had together, before Azazel had shown up and taken John away, Rachel had allowed herself to bask in that feeling.  
She was supposed to be in love with Dean. She was in love with him. So why had being the center of someone else's world made her feel so special?

Dean deserved better than her.

"I'm going to go downstairs," Jo whispered, causing Rachel to jerk back to awareness. "Do you want anything?"

"I'm fine," Janet whispered back. She trailed her fingers through Rachel's hair, quiet and soothing until the door closed. "You awake?"

"Yeah." She sat up all the way and wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth. "Thanks for coming out here, Mom."

Her mother just smiled sadly and caressed Rachel's face.

"I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm supposed to do." Her voice was scratchy and low, her throat sore.

"I don't know what to tell you. Just… think before you do anything."

"I'm thinking of Dean."

"No, you're panicking and reacting on instinct. You want to run, to hide. Retreat. But what will happen if you do?"

She shrugged. "Dean will go on with his life and not have to worry about me or some demon spawn that's not even his."

"It was never his child, Rachel, and it's never mattered. At least now, he's related by blood. You've told me enough times that Dean will do anything for his family."

"Yeah, but…"

"And we're talking about demons," Janet interrupted. "Demons lie, they spread discord and chaos where they go. This is a war. It wants something from Sam and Dean, and it wants them weak. Why do you think they keep going after you and Nathan? The demons are hurting the Winchesters where it counts most."

Her eyes flooded. "I know. That's why…"

"That's why you're playing right into Azazel's hands?" Her mother cupped her chin and lifted Rachel's face to meet her gaze. "Honey, when you were missing, Dean was frantic with worry. Same when Sam was missing. He'll do anything for family, and family is his weakness. Leaving him alone isn't going to help or protect him. It's just going to make him weak."

She was right, and Rachel knew it. And that's what made it so hard.

She sighed and closed her eyes.

"You need to sleep," Janet said.

"I'm too tired to sleep."

"How about I make you some warm milk, and you lie down and relax? I'll be back in a minute."

"Okay." She let out a long sigh. Lay down, carefully arranging herself on her side so she could one day get up again.

The blankets were pulled over her and Janet bent down and kissed her on top of the head. "It's going to be okay, sweetie," she whispered. "You and Dean will work through this. Just don't be too hard on yourself."

Rachel drifts off to sleep with those words in her head. They bounced around her skull, echoing, until her mother's voice faded from them and were taken over by another. A voice that was rougher, deeper, and a thousand times more weary.

_She panted for air, blinking up at the ceiling as her body trembled with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her hair stuck to her face, drops of sweat rolling down her neck, pooling in the valley of her breasts._

_John rolled off her. "You okay?"_

_She rubbed her hands over her eyes. "I think so."_

_He rubbed his thumb over the side of her face. "You really are beautiful, you know." When she rolled her eyes, he laughed. "I'm serious. I always thought so. It's one of the reasons I'm pretty sure this is all my fault. Azazel knew."_

_"Don't. I can't… all this is hard enough as it is. I don't need to feel bad about you blaming yourself. He did this. Not you."_

_John took her hand and kissed it. "You need to promise me that you won't blame yourself. Like you said, this hard enough. And it's not your fault."_

_"I just cheated on my husband."_

_He kissed the inside of her wrist. The coarse hair of his beard and mustache tickled her skin. "Listen to me, little girl, and listen good: this isn't cheating. This is something we're doing for family."_

_She laughed._

_"I know." He gave her a crooked smile. "But it's true. Just keep in mind, that if you had an actual choice, a legitimate one, not where you could either be raped by a demon or sleep with your father-in-law, you wouldn't do it." His smile deepened. "You wouldn't do me."_

_Rachel closed her eyes. "I wish I could believe that."_

_"Ah, little girl." John dropped her hand and gathered her into his arms. "Trust me. I don't doubt you at all. Don't be too hard on yourself."_

The bed creaked. Rachel prided her swollen eyes open, heart pounding.

"Sorry. Didn't meant to wake you," Dean said. He lay his head on the pillow next to hers.

"It's okay." She scrubbed her hand over her eyes. Her head ached and the space behind her face felt stuff and swollen, like it was full of cotton.

Dean let out a long, tired sigh.

"You all right?"

"I don't know anymore. You?"

"Yeah. About that." She reached over and grabbed his arm. Slowly, painstakingly, she hauled herself over onto her back.

The baby kicked.

"Quiet, you," she scolded. She pushed herself to sitting and propped her pillows behind her.

"I'll get that." Dean grabbed the pillows that were strewn around the bed. Put some behind her and slid another few under her knees. "That good?"

"Yeah. Thanks." She lay back again.

Dean put his hand on her stomach. "She giving you trouble?"

"Just kicking. She's restless."

He rubbed. "Listen up baby doll," he said, putting his face next to the bulge. "Your mom's all tired out and doesn't have the energy to deal with you misbehaving. So, be good." He kissed Rachel's stomach.

The baby settled.

"Well, she still listens to you."

"Yeah, well. She knows her daddy means business." He looked at Rachel.

Her eyes pricked. "Really?"

Dean gave her a tentative smile. "Rach, look. I don't know what old yellow eyes thought, but I'm not just going to dump you. You're my wife."

"Yeah, but…"

"It's not like you slept with Dad to hurt me. Or 'cause you wanted him."

"Maybe I did a little bit. John was really handsome. I was attracted to him."

"I've been attracted to other girls since you. Doesn't mean I've slept with them. Or would." He rested his hand on top of hers. "I'm not saying it's not weird. Or I don't… I don't know. Have these thoughts."

"Like?"

"Like, was he better than me?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. I mean, he was a better solider than me, better hunter. He taught me everything I know."

"Not that."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."

"Dean," she said, feeling helpless. "I don't know."

He nodded. "Okay. Fine."

"No, I mean, I don't know." She grabbed him and shook. "I remember it happening. I remember it being pleasurable, but I don't… I don't have words to articulate it."

"You don't have the words?"

Her vision went red. She punched him on the shoulder, then turned, struggling against her weight and the bedding to get off the bed.

Dean caught her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm an ass."

"You are." But she relaxed against him, closing her eyes. "It was something that happened. John didn't hurt me. Azazel did. You don't enter into it."

He sighed and rested his forehead on her shoulder. "You kiss different than you used to."

"What?"

"After we found you, it was different. You kiss different."

"Better?"

He didn't answer.

Rachel's stomach dropped. "Oh," she said, throat tight.

He pressed a kiss against her neck. "Not that you weren't good before. But now it's… and I always sort have wondered if you were with someone so who was so good, you learned a bunch of tricks."

She shook her head and turned to face him. "Dean, it's you, okay? Not your dad. You."

"You mean that, right? Or are you really gonna take off for good?"

She closed her eyes, heart pounding.

"You promised me, you know. You said you weren't leaving. That you wouldn't…" He trailed off, the leave me hanging in the air unsaid.

"You still want me?"

Dean nodded. Took her hand and laced their fingers together. "None of this is a deal breaker for me. It's a little weird, but…"

"I don't know if I'd called it just a little weird."

"Oh, trust me, I've seen weirder. You have, too. This is just a… a side show. It ain't the main attraction at the freak show."

Rachel frowned and looked down at their hands. "Yeah," she said. "That's yet to come."

Dean didn't say anything. He just put his arms around her and held her close.


	21. Chapter 21

A warm, heavy, furry body collapsed on top of Sam, jerking him to wakefulness. He opened his eyes to find his face pressed against dark brown/black fur. When he pulled back, he could see that Ginger had inserted herself in the space between his and Nathan's bodies on her back, legs splayed open, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth.   
She wiggled back and forth, like she was trying to get comfortable, to get them to move further apart so she could get to the bed.

Nathan groaned. "Ginger."

She rolled over and began to lick his face.

"Cut it out!" He pushed her muzzle away. "Bad dog."

She wuffed.

"You think she needs to be fed or walked or something?" Sam asked. His voice was a croak; he swallowed, scooting away from the dog to give her room.

"Dunno. What time is it?"

He checked the clock. "One twenty?"

"In the afternoon?"

"Yup. Thirteen twenty."

Nathan made a pathetic noise. "I don't know if I'm jet lagged or drama lagged." He saw up and rubbed his closed eyes. "Anyone else up yet?" He groped for something on the night stand.

"I hear moving downstairs," Sam said after a moment of listening. "And I smell coffee."

"Mmmm, coffee. Where are my glasses?"

Sam scratched his stomach and slid out of bed. "Not on the nightstand. Did you fall asleep with them on?"

Nathan felt around the rumpled bedding. "Ginger, off!"

Ginger let out a huff and jumped off the bed. She padded to the door and sat.

"I'm going to let her out." Sam crossed the room as Nathan continued to dig around the bed.

Rachel was in the hall, shuffling from the bathroom to her bedroom. Her hair was a ratted halo around her head, face white and puffy, eyes swollen. She looked horrible.

"You okay?" Sam called.

She looked up, startled. When she saw Sam, she gave him a small, tired smile. "I'm better. My head a little clearer."

"You and Dean okay?"

She nodded.

"Good."

Ginger bounded down the hall to Rachel. Licked her hand and sniffed at her stomach. She barked again, a strangely joyful sound, and rubbed her face against the bulge.

Rachel laughed and pet Ginger's head. "Well, that's a good sign. Is Nathan up?"

"Yeah, but, uh… could you maybe take the dog?"

She raised her eyebrow, smirking as Sam's face heated.

"Sure, no problem." She scratched behind Ginger's ears. "Come on, girl. Let's leave your daddies for some alone time."

"Thank you." Sam backed into the room and closed the door.

Nathan had stripped the bed, throwing the covers on the floor. He was running his hands over the fitted sheet, under the pillow, an increasing look of desperation on his face. "I can't find them!"

"Nathan, just relax, okay? They're here. You probably threw them off the bed with the covers." Sam walked back to the bed.

He heard the crunch before he realized what he was feeling under his foot.

Nathan froze. "Are you kidding me?"

Sam lifted his foot and kicked the corner of the bedspread aside. Underneath, was Nathan's now flattened sunglasses. One of the lenses was crushed, the plastic around it completely cracked. "Shit, I'm sorry."

He fell back onto the bed. Slammed a pillow over his face. "Sam," he whined.

"I'm sorry. It was an accident."

"I know that. But they were the only pair I brought. I sort of prioritized underwear, and I have no idea why. I can go without underwear." He let the pillow drop off.

"Didn't your parents spend a gazillion dollars on a pair of eyes that looked real?"

Nathan clenched his jaw, and, seriously, Sam must have some kind of complex to fall for someone who had the same stubborn face as his sister-in-law.

He stretched out next to Nathan. Stroked his hair back from his face. "What's wrong?"

"You broke my glasses."

"I know. We'll go to town later and get you new ones. But I was kind of hoping that right now…" He trailed off and brushed his hand over Nathan's collarbone.

Nathan made a noise in the back of his throat.

Sam smiled. Bent over and followed the path his fingers had taken with his mouth. Placed small, wet kiss around the curve until he came to the edge of the tattoo that curled over Nathan's shoulder.

"Trust me," Nathan said, voice tight and strained. "The last thing you want to be looking at while we fool around is this." He opened his eyes.

Sam sighed and kissed the head of the dragon inked on Nathan's shoulder. "Honestly, if your eyes are open while we're fooling around, I'm not doing it right." He arched his neck and kissed between Nathan's eyes. "And you look fine."

"I look dead-eyed and vacant." He closed his eyes again.

"No, you really don't. Unless I was staring at you for a long time, I wouldn't notice they aren't real. The designer did a really good job."

Nathan sighed and opened his eyes again. "Everyone says that, but all I can picture in my head are these creepy doll eyes staring out of my head. And that I'm freaking people out. And myself out, because creepy doll eyes are the scariest fucking things in the world."

"Next to clowns, yeah. But that's not what you look like."

"So I'm told. I have no way to know that anyone is telling me the truth."

"Even me?"

"Especially you, seeing as you are the one trying to get into my pants."

Sam slid his hand down Nathan's chest to his hip.

"If you say that I'm not wearing any pants, I will break up with you," Nathan said.

"Tearing your ear off doesn't do it, but bad puns do?"

Nathan's eyes rolled in a jerky, unpracticed movement.

Sam kissed his cheek and lay his head on Nathan's shoulder. "Have you talked to anyone about feeling self-conscious?"

"Yeah. I'm seeing a psychologist at school. And we have group therapy for people who've had traumatic eye injuries. But most of them just lost one eye, not both. They can still see, and they can see how their new eye looks. And they can practice their facial expressions more easily."

"I don't see anything wrong with your facial expressions."

"That's because I wear the glasses all the time. But I know I'm not moving my face like I used to. Everything feels stiff and weird around the eyes."

"It'll get…" He stopped before he continued down the path of that cliché. Instead, he said, "So, if you don't want me to see you like this, why do you keep fighting so hard to keep us together?"

"Because you're hot." Nathan pet Sam hair, fingers massaging at his scalp. "And I like being with you. I'm just, you know. A freak."

"No, you're not." Sam rolled on top of him. Kissed him, tongue delving into his mouth, and pressed their pelvises together.

Nathan gasped. He closed his eyes and arched his back, pressing back into Sam.

"See?" Sam breathed. He nipped Nathan's lower lip, then set on working his way down Nathan's body. "I do this right, you don't have to worry about your eyes. Or anything." He bit down on a soft patch of skin above Nathan's hip.

The only reply with a strangled groan.

________________________________________

Hours later, Sam found his brother in the garage, working on the Mustang he'd been playing with since they'd gotten to Bobby's.

"It's looking good," he said, sitting on a stool and cracking open a beer.

Dean grunted and ran his thumb over his forehead. "Yeah, it's coming."

"You planning on selling it?" It would probably catch a good price. Dean was a master at restoring, and a collector would pay a lot to have a classic Mustang. Even with Rachel's money, it was always nice to have some padding.

But Dean shook his head. "I'm giving it to Rachel." He finished with what he was fiddling with and tossed his tool into his toolbox. "She likes it."

His eyebrows hit his hairline. "Rachel likes it? How can you tell?" After all, Rachel had opinions on everything from the most effective way to exorcise a demon to soda flavors, but she'd never seemed to care one way or another about cars. When pressed, she'd admitted that she liked blue ones and really deep cherry red ones. And Dean's. Other than that, she didn't care.

Dean had just about cried.

"Yeah, well, I noticed that when we're here, she chooses this one to hide in. Some of her notes on old cases were under the seat. I figured it might be nice for her to have a car of her own."

"Yeah, all new mothers need a sixty-five Mustang. There even a way to get a baby seat in the back?"

Dean just shrugged. He picked up the beer Sam had brought out for him, opened it, and took a long drink. "Where's Nathan?"

"Shower."

"He okay to leave alone?"

"Yeah. We set it up so he could find everything, and Ginger's with him. If he needs anything, he'll shout." He sipped his beer. "How are you?"

"Fine." Noncommittal as always.

"Come on, Dean."

He let out a long sigh. "God, really? Isn't it enough that I just went through two days of emotional crap with Rachel? I have to let my feelings out with my gay brother, too?" He held up his hand, forestalling Sam's protest by saying,   
"Nathan is fucking loud and explicit when he's having sex. Why do you think everyone else took off?"

"I had no idea everyone else took off. Where did they go?"

"The house. Or whatever it is that Rachel bought." He rubbed his forehead. "I don't get it, Sam. What the hell is the game? I mean… why?"

"Why what?"

"Why Dad. And why take her memory? And why have her remember and… I don't get it. Meg acted like finding out that Dad's the one who…. that… I mean, I'm not saying it's not gross. Because, I mean, there are lines. And, you know, you might be trampling all over them, but that doesn't mean…"

"What does that mean? How am I trampling all over the lines?"

"You're sleeping with my wife's brother. That's disgusting."

"Why? I mean, what about twins that marry the same set of twins? I mean, is that gross? And, please remember, you watch porn with twins."

Dean smiled crookedly. "Yeah, but that's hot."

"Because it's women?"

"And they're not related to me."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "If Nathan was a girl, would it be gross?"

"I… I… He's not, so it doesn't matter, okay? I mean, look, I'm not judging or anything. You're happy, you sucking his dick, whatever. Just keep it in another room and gag him. But Dad actually… I mean he was inside… And I just…" He trailed off, face twisting with frustration.

"Yeah." It wasn't that Sam didn't see his point. The last thing he'd ever want was to know his dad slept with a girl Sam was with. Or knew. Hell, Sam'd rather be completely ignorant of his dad's sex life, period.

"But, I mean," Dean said into his beer, "what I do I do? What am I supposed to do?" He shook his head. "What do they want me to do? Like, what was the plan? Did Azazel think I'd just leave Rachel? It wasn't even her fault."

"Well. You were excited about the baby before. How do you feel now?"

"I always knew it wasn't mine."

"I know." Although Sam was pretty sure that, deep down, Dean had hoped it was really his. "But now that you've got confirmation… how do you feel?"

He shrugged. "I don't… I don't know. I'm… I mean I wish… But it ain't like I haven't raised a sibling before."

"You'd still be its father."

"If Azazel lets us keep her. If she's not a demon. If…" Dean sighed. Rubbed his eyes. "What if I can't touch her?"

"The baby?"

He shook his head, not looking at Sam. "Rachel. What if every time I go touch her, I think of Dad. Of her and Dad together? What if I can't…"

Sam frowned. "Is it really so different from before?"

"Yeah. I mean, before, it was some faceless guy. This is Dad."

"Your hero."

Dean glared at him.

"Dean," Sam said, holding up a placating hand, "I'm not making fun of you. I just… you looked up to Dad so much. You followed his orders without questioning for years. I get why it's weird. But it's Rachel. You love her. I didn't ever think you'd ever find someone to settle down with, but you're happy with her. And it's not like Dad's around to make things weird."

"I guess." He flicked the tab of the beer can.

Sam sighed. Drained his beer and crushed the can. "You know," he said, "it's probably not something you have to worry about. I mean, neither of you is exactly in a… a sexy place. I mean, she's nearly eight months pregnant and had a shock, and you're exhausted. And this isn't the first time the two of you have had issues. I mean, you know. You feeling dead the first few weeks of your marriage. And, before that, being dead. And her, well, having the threat of this hanging over you. But you pushed through that."

"Because you locked us in a room."

"You know, I'm really sick of having that thrown in my face. For the record, I did not lock you in there so you'd have sex. I wanted you to talk. To be honest with each other about what was going on."

"You left the house for four hours."

Sam shrugged. "Well, I'm not stupid. Dean Winchester plus bed plus love of his life pretty much just equals one thing."

Dean actually blushed. "She kind of is, isn't she?"

He smiled. "Yeah. I think so."

"She and I… we're going to get through this. Right?"

"Yes, Dean. You are."

***

"So, is this like a nesting thing?" Dean asked. He had to ask. Bobby had warned him not to, but he kept looking at the house Rachel had bought and thinking What the fuck?

It just slipped out. He blamed the music. Rachel had some kind of crazy mix of Zeppelin, Jethro Tull and some folk singer playing. It wasn't bad, exactly, some of the time, but it wasn't what he'd have chosen as soundtrack for the inaugural ride of her Mustang. But, driver chose the music, and it was her car, so…

She looked over at him, eyebrows raised, sucking on the straw of her milkshake.

Dean ducked his head. "You know. The uh…" He waved towards the front windshield.

Rachel slurped her shake and pulled her mouth off the straw. "I… don't know. I mean, in my defense, we'd talked about a house."

"That is not a house."

She rolled her eyes. "So, it needs a little work. It's big enough for all of us, will give Bobby back his privacy, and it has a tree for a treehouse."

Dean smiled. Leaned his head against the headrest and looked out the windshield at the house.

Rachel had already hired people to come out and start repairs. They probably would have been out right now if it hadn't been pouring rain. There was plastic tarps stretched over the roof and the various holes in the walls. The lawn was a river of mud. He could almost picture himself mowing grass on it one day. Almost, but not quite. It still didn't all seem real.

"Bobby would miss us if we weren't around."

"I'm not saying we wouldn't be around. Just, you know. Not in his face all the time. He was ready to kill Nathan."

"Nathan is not living here."

She reached into the bag between them and pulled out some fries. "He's your brother's boyfriend."

"And they can get a motel in town and do it there. Babe, I do not need to hear in detail what Sam is doing to him.   
And neither does the baby. It'll scar her for life, man."

"What will you do if it's not a girl?" Rachel asked. "You'll be okay with another brother, right?"

He rested his head on the back of the seat and looked at her. "It's not my brother. Or sister. That's my kid."

"By your father's sperm."

He couldn't help the wince.

She lowered her eyes. "Sorry."

Dean reached out to her. Cupped her chin and rubbed his thumb over her lips. "I don't love you any less," he said, because Janet had told him that he had to tell Rachel that, and often. Not like it was a hardship; Dean didn't express feelings well, but it didn't mean he felt them any less. And he loved seeing her skin pink when he did say something.   
"And I don't love the baby and less. Girl or boy. But if you're going to be blunt about it, I'm gonna be weird about it. Because it's weird."

She nodded. "I get that."

He leaned towards her. Kissed her. Tried not to imagine John doing the same, maybe holding her chin like he was, stroking his thumb along her jaw.

Rachel pulled away. Licked her lips.

Dean felt like a failure.

_And the love that I feel is so far away_ Jethro Tull sang in the silence. _I'm a bad dream that I just had today._

"So," Rachel said. She turned the car on and eased it out of the driveway. The window wipers beat a counter-rhythm to the song playing from the IPod she'd insisted he put in. "You and Sam going to be okay in Ohio without me?"

"Yeah. I mean, ghost at college, which is your thing, but if you don't want to…"

"It's not a question of want. I just don't think…"

"No, I get it. This'll probably be a salt and burn anyway. Professor takes a nose-dive out of a window of a supposedly haunted classroom? You don't need to do that drive just for that. It'll be fine."

Right. Just fine.


	22. Chapter 22

They'd been gone for two days, and already Rachel missed Dean with a fierceness that surprised her. Things had been so awkward between them since Meg had spewed truth all over them. She thought that space would be a good thing. Dean would go off, kill something and get his groove back while Rachel would work on Bobby's library and try not to think too much.

But Dean was gone and his absence was an ache.

She sighed and tried to push thoughts of Dean away. She wasn't lonely. She wasn't. She had Bobby for company, and it wasn't like she wasn't used to be on her own. She even liked being on her own. Finally, she had time to really work on Bobby's library without being interrupted. Well, Bobby was there, but he was outside salvaging cars or fielding calls from other hunters. She was pretty much alone.

Her phone rang. She snatched it up with an eagerness she would vehemently deny should anyone ever mention it.  
"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

"Oh. Hi, Sam."

"Gee, could you sound more disappointed? Miss Dean?"

"Need something, or did you just call to talk?" she, blushing. She hated she was so obvious.

"Yeah, you mind doing some research for me? I need someone to look up the history of Crawford Hall."

"Yeah, no problem. But, uh, any reason you can't do it yourself? It's kind of a simple thing to look up." She turned to her computer and fired up Google.

"Your husband froze my computer, and now I can't do research."

She raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Dean went to a virus-ridden porn site on my computer, and now it won't work."

Well, that did sound like him. She thought she had taught him better than that, showing him the safe porn sites and whatnot, but he did tend to slip into old habits when he was away. Maybe it was a form of rebellion, a holdover from childhood. Unless he was rebelling against her.

"How's the hunt otherwise?"

"Fine. Weird. Going slow. We can't seem to get a clear story, which is why I wanted to look up the history. There's campus legends of a murder or a suicide in the building, so there might be a ghost hanging around. Someone said that a girl was killed there, or she killed herself over a faithless lover. And the janitor said that he saw a girl go into the office with the professor, but no one came out."

"Did you ask him about the history?"

"He didn't know much. He's only worked there six years, though. He did say, however, that the professor, who an ethics and morality teacher, had a lot of girls up there. So, you know, grade-A douchbag. Only a little worse than someone who breaks their brother's computer watching porn!" The last was shouted.

"Who are you talking to?" Dean shouted back, his voice distant over the phone.

"Your wife."

"Rachel, I wasn't watching porn!"

She rolled her eyes. "Dean, come on…"

"She said you're a liar."

"I did not!"

"I'm not lying! I didn't touch his stupid computer!"

"I wasn't watching it, and there's no one else!"

"Maybe it was your boyfriend!"

"My boyfriend doesn't need porn when he's around me." Sam sounded smug.

"Just… you…." Dean sputtered before deciding on, "Then it must have been you."

"Like I'd watch Pregnant Lactating MILFs!"

"Dude!" Dean sounded horrified. "That's disgusting."

There was a beat of silence, then Sam kind of snickered.

"You asshole."

Rachel winced as she heard a loud thump. There was a crack, the sound of struggling, a couple shouts. Then the phone went dead.

She looked at the display to see the call had been disconnected. She shook her head. Okay, so loneliness problem solved. She already had one inconvenient child on her hands; she didn't need two more.

She turned back to her computer to start her search.

Her phone rang.

"Rach, I didn't mean… I mean, you know I think you're hot, right?" Dean said when she answered. "I mean, you're beautiful, baby and all. I'd totally watch porn of you."

"Dean!" she exclaimed, blushing.

"Sam's not in here."

You can't touch me without flinching anymore she wanted to say, but she held her tongue. That had nothing to do with her being pregnant, and she knew that. He hadn't seemed to mind her increasing form before Meg had dropped her bomb, after all. And, as big and disgusting as she was beginning to feel, there were moments that she wished that John wasn't standing (or lying) between her and Dean, because she could use a little action.

"Thanks," she said softly.

Dean cleared his throat. "You're… I mean… You're hot. But, uh, it'd be weird. Watching other pregnant girls. I mean… you know I like porn…"

"No, really?"

"But there's a line," he continued like she hadn't interrupted. "And I'm not gonna jack off while watching a girl pregnant with some other dude's baby."

She winced and bit her lip.

"Ah, fuck."

The line went dead again.

She needed a drink. Pushing herself up from the desk, she walked towards the kitchen.

Her phone rang again.

"Dean's in the bathroom banging his head against the wall." It was half tattling, half a question.

"Did he tell you what he said?" She couldn't drink wine, but there was plenty of grape juice in the fridge. Some woman craved bacon mixed with ice cream; she craved grape juice.

"Not exactly. Just that he was a Goddamn moron, which I could have told him. I think he's going to crack the tile."

"Tell him to cut it out."

"Rachel says to cut it out!"

There was a muffled response.

"He said he'll cut it out when he's destroyed the part of the brain that thinks."

"Tell him too late."

Sam laughed. "I told him that years ago. Here, talk to him."

"I'm an ass," Dean said into the phone.

"Yeah, but we knew that." She couldn't help smiling at the ridiculousness of the situation. "I miss you."

He sighed. "Me too."

"Okay, so tell Sam I'll research the college and call him later. And stop watching porn on his computer."

"I didn't."

She rested her head on her hand and smiled. "You know I don't care if you do. Well, it's a little gauche to do it on Sam's computer, but…"

"Did you just say it's a little ghost?"

"What? No. Gauche. Rude."

"What's that, French? Are Frenching me? 'cause, baby, I ain't that kind of girl. I need dinner or something first."

"Oh, you need some wining and dining?"

"And I don't put out on the first date," he added, sounding flirty. "I need to know that you're planning on sticking around."

"Oh, I'll stick around. As long as you don't mind I'm the size of a whale. Oh, I forgot; that kind of thing gets you hot. I'm not lactating, though. Hope you don't mind."

Dean made a noise of disgust. "Seriously, what kind of perverts watch that stuff?"

"You?"

"I'm all about busty Asian beauties and geeky college brunettes. Only time I get hot watching a pregnant girl is if she happens to be a geeky college brunette. And, I'm married to one. Seriously, though, I didn't touch his computer."

She shrugged. "I believe you. Good luck on convincing Sam, though."

"Jerk. He's probably using my phone to sext your brother. I don't want have to read that."

Her bladder began to send sudden, high alerts out. Lately, she went from just fine to completely bursting in the space of a heartbeat. "And, I'm hanging up now. I have to go bleach my brain."

"Rach…"

"There are little demon hooves dancing on my bladder, Dean. I've got to go." There were many things she'd do on a cell phone with her husband; pee wasn't one of them.

"Ah, got it. I'll talk to you soon?"

"I love you."

"Me too."

***

_She had one chance. Not much of one, but she had to take it. John was in the living room; the demon—Azazel, John had said—had yet to manifest. Rachel was alone in the bedroom, and the window wasn't locked._

_Her ankle protested loudly when she landed on the ground, but she bit her lip and held back her cry of pain. When she was sure she was steady, she started to run._

_It wasn't easy. She wasn't allowed any shoes. Sharp rocks, pine needles, and dead leaves crunched under the soles of her feet. She limped badly. Tree branches slapped against her face and scratched at her skin. Rain poured, soaking her to the skin. Everything hurt, but she had to get away._

_"Rachel!"_

_John's booming voice made her start. She tripped over a boulder, feeling a bruise form almost immediately on her shin._

_She pushed herself up again. Kept running. Her lungs were beginning to ache. Her throat burned._

_John crashed into her, bringing them both to the ground. Rachel hit hard, the air knocked from her lungs._

_"Stop," he panted into her ear._

_She struggled. Squirmed in his arms, trying to free herself._

_"Rachel… Rach!"_

_She got loose. Pushed herself to her feet._

_But John got her again. Trapped her arms against her body and lifted her from the ground. She kicked out, forward and back. Caught him on the shin, but it hurt her more than it did him. He just kept walking._

_"I'm sorry, little girl," he whispered into her hair. "I'm sorry."_

_And, just like that, the resistance went out from her. She went limp in his arms, exhausted. "Stop saying that."_

_He adjusted his grip, shifting her so he carried her princess style. "I don't know what else to say. I don't know how to make this situation any better. But we're being watched. It might not seem like it, but he's watching what we do. You try to run away, he'll know. Do it too much, he's going to take over."_

_They were back at the cabin. He set her on the front porch step and backed away. He looked anguished. He looked like Dean back at the hospital, when John had still been in a coma. And after John had died. God, that look… it did things to her._

_"I'm sorry, Rachel. This is unfair, I know. I get that." He rubbed his eyes. "I didn't know what else to do."_

_"I know," she whispered. She licked her lips and said it louder. "I know, I get it."_

_"No, you don't. You don't know what it's like down there. What they do. Every day, they take me apart piece by piece, but I stand it because…" His voice cracked. He shook his head. Looked away. "And he was going to…. He was going to make me watch you die. Watch Dean find you. Your body." He shook his head again, tears spilling from the  
corners of his eyes. "It would have been worse than being on the rack."_

_She went one step down. "Well, what's this going to do to him? You're… We're… And a baby! Seriously, you're asking me to make him raise a demon?"_

_He raised his hands to his face. "He's already lost so much. And Azazel promised you'd be fine." He dropped his hands again. "He promised…"_

_"Azazel is a demon." She began to tremble and not from the cold._

_"I know. I know, little girl, but you're strong enough to be okay." He walked over to her. Stayed on the ground, but reached up. Gripped her by the arms. "I saw it. The first time I saw you, I saw it." His face crumbled. "That's what got us into this mess, and I am so Goddamn sorry."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Nothing. Just, there's a lot more going on than you know. And we…" He broke off abruptly. His fists clenched and he closed his eyes. "Sometimes, you remind me of her. Of Mary. Azazel knew it. He's known… and the fucking ang…" He broke off again and turned away._

_"John. You're not making any sense."_

_He laughed a little wildly. "Welcome to my life. I can't… I want to tell you everything, but I …" He shook his head. Turned back. "It's been almost a hundred years, Rachel. Azazel's been working up to this for long enough that, sometimes, it's hard to remember her face. All he lets me see is you, like having Mary in my head too strongly would have stopped me from saying yes to this. I swear, I'm here for Dean, as fucked up as that sounds. I've been wracking my brains, trying to figure out how to get out of this, but all I can think is if we don't, then Azazel's going to come and rape you. And, I swear, little girl, I'm trying so hard not to give in to them and turn into a demon, but knowing what that would do to you and to Dean, I just…"_

_She reached for him. Pulled him close. "Don't. Just… don't." And then, even though she knew, she knew that it didn't matter what she and John did, Azazel was going to come for her anyway, because he was a demon and demons lied and John looked crazed enough to have forgotten that, she kissed him._

_It was like something in him broke. John's arm came around her and he pulled her off her feet, roughly. His mouth worked against hers with a desperation, and he made a loud, shrill ringing noise in his throat._

The ringing sound was weird. And annoying. And…

Not a dream.

Rachel opened her eyes. Her phone was buzzing and ringing wildly on the nightstand. She started to push herself to sitting, but decided that would be way too much effort. Instead, she just grabbed the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, babe."

She frowned. Dean's voice sounded strangled, like he was choking back anger. Or being choked. "You okay?"

"No, I'm really not. And Sam's really not."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm going to kill him."

"What happened now?"

"He let the air out of tires of the Impala."

"Why would he do that?"

"He thinks I stole his computer."

God, she was getting really sick of this. They'd been gone a week and every single day, they called with something complaint about the other one. It's like they were trying to give her a crash course in parenting bratty children, except they were grown men.

Of course, she had slept with their father. Maybe this was her punishment.

"What did you do to his computer?"

"Nothing!" he shouted. "I never touched his computer. I didn't watch porn on it, I didn't steal it, I didn't do anything to his fucking computer! He lost it and is blaming me."

She rolled out of bed, bracing herself on the nightstand. "Did you see him let the air out of your tires?"

He snorted. "No. He did it when I was down in the sewers."

"Why were you in the sewers? I thought you were hunting for aliens now." She shrugged into her robe and left the room, heading to the bathroom.

"Yeah, well, there was another murder. This one was mauled by an animal. A… an alligator or something."

She frowned, processing that. Squeezed toothpaste on her brush before venturing, "Alligators in the sewers?"

"That's what we figured. I mean, it's crazy. Urban legend that's totally bogus, but Sam found a belly scale on the mutilated body, so…I'm completely lost."

"And there's no connection between the victims?" she asked around a mouthful of foam.

"The first two were dicks, but other than that, no. And the last one had his office in Crawford Hall. He was a research scientist."

She spat out the toothpaste. "What the hell kind of college has an ethics professor and research scientist in the same building?"

"A cheap one? Anyway, can you run these things through your program and see if it gets any hits or whatever? Look in a book? Because I've got get the car fixed before the rims are damaged, and then I need to eviscerate Sam, so I'm booked."

"Yeah, no problem. I'll call you back when I find something. Don't kill Sam too badly."

"I make no promises." He hung up.

Rachel finished washing up and went back to her room to dress. Bobby was already downstairs, drinking coffee, nose deep in a demonology book Rachel had unearthed the day before while she worked.

"So," she said, sliding into a chair across from him. "Dean and Sam sound like they're having a lot of trouble with this hunt."

"They've had trouble before," he said, turning the page. "They'll figure it out."

"Not if they kill each other first. Which they seem on the verge of doing." She grabbed an banana from the bowl in the middle of the table.

He closed the book. "Sam called about the alligator thing. It's load of bunk if you ask me." He shook his head. "Don't make those doe eyes at me."

"I'm not making doe eyes. I'm just letting you know that I'm going to go out there. See if I can help. At least diffuse the situation."

"And I'm not supposed to let you go anywhere on your own."

She arched her eyebrows. "I so do not need some protective knight hovering over me. I can go alone."

He shrugged and raised his own eyebrows. "Yeah, but you're not going to . Like I said, Sam called earlier about the whole thing, begging for help. I'm already packed, I was just waiting for you."

Rachel grinned and jumped to her feet. "I'll be back in a minute. Just don't go anywhere."

"What part of not letting you be alone don't you understand? Hey, Rachel!"

She stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned back. "Yeah?"

"You have any clue what this is? You've been talking to the boys more than me. Put anything together?"

Rachel turned everything Dean had told her over the past few days. The ghost, the slow-dancing alien, the alligators. The first two basically getting what they'd deserved. And a research scientist. She'd bed good money that he was experimenting on animals. So, a dick.

Something was preying on assholes. Several beings came to mind, but she wasn't ready to settle on just yet. She had to see it first.

So, she shook her head. "No. I don't."

Bobby narrowed his eyes at her, like he didn't quite believe her. After a moment, he just nodded. "All right. Get. We're leaving in fifteen."

The drive there took forever. Luckily, the little demon behaved and didn't make Rachel need to stop all that frequently. She spent most of the time sleeping. As the pregnancy progressed, she was feeling more and more tired.  
Sometimes she imagined that the baby was part vampire, slowly sucking the life out of her. Maybe it wouldn't be the bloody, dramatic exit she'd feared in the beginning. Maybe it wouldn't burst from her stomach, leaving her to bleed out. Maybe it'd just take everything she had and then slip out of her corpse and quietly crawl away to destroy the world.

They get to the hotel to hear Sam and Dean shouting at each other through the door.

Rachel and Bobby exchanged looks before Rachel pounded on the door.

The shouting stopped. A moment later, Sam opened the door.

"Thank God you're here," he said, dragging Rachel into the room. "Please tell him I did not touch his stupid car!"

"And I didn't touch your computer!" Dean shouted. He grabbed Rachel away from Sam and wrapped his arm possessively around her shoulder. "You believe me, Rach. Tell him."

"Oh, like I'm going to believe her over reason. She's your wife, of course she's going to back you up! Beside, your spouse doesn't have to testify against you, and she probably knows that."

"This isn't a court case, Sam. Stop being an ass."

"I'm not the ass, you are!"

"No, you are!"

"You are!"

Dean lunged for Sam.

A loud, piercing whistle split the air. Rachel actually had to cover her ears. It didn't help; it was the pitch more than the volume, but at least it shut the boys up.

"That's enough! Bad enough the two of you have been calling to bitch her out over the phone for the past few days, but now you're tug-a-waring her? Stop it, let her go, and sit down. Now!" Bobby shouted.

Both boys flinched. Sam quickly sat at the table. Dean wavered a moment before taking a seat on the end of the bed.

"You okay, Rachel?"

"I'm fine. The two of you have gone mad." She climbed on the bed—the one that doesn't smell like chili cheese fries and is therefore, most likely Dean's bed because, well, Dean's a jerk—and laid down. "Now. Tell us from the beginning about the hunt. You know, for Bobby. He's only gotten drips and drabs so far."

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked, putting his hand on her calf.

"Rest my eyes. Now go." She closed her eyes and pulls the blankets over her. As Sam and Dean started the story, she dozed. Drifted between waking and sleeping, hearing all the details again, this time in a more coherent order.  
Sometimes, she dreamed, little snatches of what they said. She hadn't realized she was that tired.

_"Hey, princess."_

_She jerked. The words were familiar, but the voice was completely different. She hadn't heard it before._

_Rachel sat up. She was in the middle of a hallway, a school hallways. She could feel the waxed tiles underneath her, smell the wax. There were no students. Just her. And then, footsteps._

_She turned. "Hello? Who's there?"_

_"You know who," he said. "You want to see me, come on down. I'd hate to think you came all this way just to see your husband."_

_"I don't know what you're talking about."_

_He snorted. "Don't keep me waiting, princess. I've grown a little sick of it. Oh, and bring me a Heath bar."_

_"I don't…"_

_A snap echoed in the hall, in her head._

Rachel opened her eyes.

"You showed up about an hour after that," Dean said.

Rachel sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Was that the end of the story? We all caught up now?"

"Yeah, we're caught up," Bobby said. He couldn't sound more disgusted if he was standing waist-deep in demon guts. "I'm surprised at you two. I really am. Sam, first off, Dean did not take your computer."

"But I…"

"Shh, shh, shh, shh!" Bobby hissed.

Sam subsided, looking like a kicked puppy.

"And, Dean, Sam did not touch your car."

"Yeah." Sam crowed.

Rachel glared at him. "You are really walking on thin ice, Sam. Shut it."

He shrank back again, looking at his hands like he hadn't said anything.

"Thank you," Bobby said. "And if you two bothered to pull your heads out of your asses, it all would have been pretty clear." He looked at Rachel. "Want to share with the class?"

She smiled. "Why on earth do you think I know?"

"Because you ain't stupid. You just married into stupid."

"What are you talking about?" Dean sounded bewildered.

"What you're hunting. You got a trickster on your hands."

"That's what I thought!" Dean said triumphantly.

"What? No you didn't!"

"Okay, that's it!" Rachel heaved herself out of bed. "I am so sick of you two fighting. I am going out for walk because if I don't move, it's possible that every muscle in my body is going to petrify. When I come back, you two will not be fighting anymore."

"Only if Sam stops being an ass."

She growled. Picked up a pillow and threw it at his head. "Bobby, don't kill them. Maiming is okay."

"You have your phone?" Dean had the pillow against his chest. He looked almost innocent. Worried.

Rachel nodded. "Of course. Be good."

"Babe, I'm always good."

She blew him a kiss and then left.

This was such a stupid idea. She knew that. She got that. There was no telling why this thing was calling her or what it wanted. It was a monster. A demi-god. And tricksters didn't exactly play on the level.

But…

It hadn't said why it wanted to see her. Except for the Heath bar, which is what she got at the vending machine. As soon as she grabbed it, though, her entire body started buzzing.

"Oh, God," she gasped, leaning against the machine.

The baby went wild. It kicked and jumped and twisted as Rachel's abdomen contracted. Her head spun. Her limbs got that fizzy bubble feeling until they barely felt like parts of her body.

She let out a small, distressed sound. Stumbled backwards, towards the stairs. Her eyes filled with tears. She fumbled for her phone, legs weakening. She sank down.

"Whoa, no! Don't do that." Hands grasped her forearms and pulled her back up. "Don't sit there. Even my powers won't be enough to get you up. Here." He snapped.

And then, she was inside. And not the motel, but somewhere else entirely.

"Okay, here you go." The man… the trickster? Lowered her into a soft, comfortable chair. Then he released her and stepped back.

Rachel stared up at him. Her head still spun slightly from the sheer amount of power he gave off, and the baby was still doing flips, but it wasn't as intense as before. The cramps had subsided and the fizzy blood eased as she stared up into his strange hazel/gold eyes.

"You're not Azazel," she blurted.

His face eased into a grin, wrinkles and laugh lines deep around his eyes and mouth. "You know, I get that a lot." He sat in a chair across from her. A second later, a dog jumped into his lap.

She rubbed her belly, trying to soothe the acrobatic being inside her. "But you… I mean… You're… but you…"

"I always thought you'd be more articulate."

"What?"

He waved his hand. "Never mind."

"I thought you were a trickster."

He raised his eyebrows. "I am."

"But you're like Azazel. Only a gazillion times more… more."

"More, more. I like that. I am the great and powerful trickster. I am more, more!"

Rachel shook her head, trying to clear it. More of her surroundings came into focus. It was an apartment. The living room opened into the kitchen, where she could see a table piled high with cake, cookies, and other sweets. She and the trickster sat in the living room, chairs facing each other.

She rubbed her forehead. "Why do you feel like Azazel? And Sam. Are you a demon?"

"No. I'm a trickster. A god."

"A pagan god."

He shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

"Which one?"

"Eh. Whichever one you like."

Her mouth fell open. "You're kidding, right? You can't just put that on me. You're either part of one pantheon or the other. Right? I mean… unless one trickster is the same as the next. But that's just bullshit. And, if you're a pagan, why do you give off the same energy as a demon?"

"Let's just say it doesn't matter." He snapped his fingers.

The Heath bar Rachel had been holding disappeared from her hand and appear in his.

He unwrapped it and crunched it noisily. "So. Your husband wants to kill me."

"Yeah. It's nothing personal. He just kind of does that." She rubbed her stomach again at a particularly hard kick.

The trickster looked at her stomach. "She acting up?"

"Well, you know. It's got that little demon tail it needs to stretch out." She smiled wanly.

He leaned forward and put his hand on her stomach. She had to clench her fists to stop herself from striking out. Not because he was a creature. She just hated people touching her stomach without permission.

But then, an incredible warmth spread out from where his hand rested. Calming ripples spread out over her skin, massaged into the cramped, tired muscles in her abdomen, around to her back, down her legs.

She let out a small moan. Slumped against the chair. "What are you doing?"

"Just easing some of the tension there. I'm not hurting anything." His voice sounded almost fond. "Your little girl's going to be quite a fighter."

"Girl?"

"Call me crazy, but aren't there all kinds of ways that doctors can find out the sex before the baby is born?" The trickster sat back.

"Well, yeah. But I figured it wouldn't really matter all that much, considering that it's a demon and all. Best not to get too attached."

"She's not a demon."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Okay, half-demon."

"Nope. Not even one-third demon. More like, human, with a light candy coating of demon. Nothing too much. Not even enough to notice. Pretty much, what you've got inside you is the baby girl of John Winchester and Rachel Adams."

Her heart pounded and she wrapped her arms around her stomach. "What are you… Then what was… Why?"

"Well, because when a man is attracted to a woman and is under the effect of a lust spell, he puts his…"

"Stop!" she shouted. "And how do you know that?"

"Hello! Pagan god, here!" he practically sang, twirling his fingers at himself. "I see most. I see you." He sat back in his chair and took another bite of his candy bar.

"Why?"

He shook his head. "I can't tell you. But one day, it'll all make sense. In the meantime, you can rest assure that your baby is actually a baby, and not demon spawn. So stop going around looking so tragic. It's not good for your skin."

Rachel threaded her fingers through her hair. Tugged, pulling strands out of her braid and messing it up. "But… but why? I mean, why would Azazel kidnap and rape me and have John do it if he wasn't making a demon? What was the point?"

"Eh, as far as I can tell, it was twofold. Something's in the works, kid, and I'm not telling you what because I am way under the radar here. But, Azazel's working towards something."

"His army."

The trickster shrugged, moving his head back and forth. "Well, yes and no. Let's just say, the army he's raising, with his special commander heading it, that's phase one. And, once it's done, Azazel's redundant, something he didn't know until recently. And that, princess, is where you come in." Golden eyes focused on her face with laser precision.  
"You are his back-up plan."

"What?"

"Well, more precisely, that's little demon-coated baby festering in your womb is the back-up plan. It's pretty clever, actually. I'm not sure if anyone else has noticed. They all think the whole raising John Winchester was part of some other plan."

"What plan?"

"We'll just call it _Make John Winchester Break on the Rack_ plan and leave it at that."

Rachel sat up. "No, he told me about that. That they torture him down there, and then they offer to stop torturing if he agrees to do it to other souls. But he hasn't."

"Exactly. Over a hundred years, and Johnny boy is holding out hope. Holding onto his boys and staying firm. So, a few of the lower-downs figured that this whole rape his son's wife and make her have his baby thing might do it."

"But John's too strong." Rachel smiled and rubbed her hand over the bulge, thinking of him. Funny, how quickly the words of a murderous trickster could make her feel a little less like she was infected with a parasite.

"Eh, kind of. For the sake of argument, we'll say yes. But. Azazel saw it as opportunity."

"For what?"

"To create a bomb shelter." He pointed at Rachel's stomach. "Like I said, he's gonna be redundant soon. And there can only be one head honcho in hell. Right now, he's pretty much on top, but only until he finishes his role. Then, he's dead. Only he doesn't like that so much, so he did this. It's a fairly obvious ploy, but most demons are so busy with their own nefarious plans to rule everything, they overlook the simple things."

Rachel shook her head. "I don't get it. How is she a bomb shelter?"

The trickster leaned forward. "Once he's taken out, he'll leap into the baby. It's got enough of his aura that no one will notice. He'll be buried deep, because he'll probably be wounded and weak. Any demon or… whatever that comes across it will sense that a demon had something to do with her creation and not look too deeply. When he gains enough power, at the opportune moment, Azazel will burst free and go along his merry way."

"And the baby?"

The trickster shrugged. "She'll probably be okay. Unless Azazel decides to take her as a vessel."

She shook her head, sitting up. "No. That can't happen." She put her hands on the armrest and started to push herself up. "I need to go."

"Whoa, princess. Settle down."

"Send me back! Send me home!"

The trickster held out his hands, placating. "Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to make a deal with you."

"I don't make deals with demons."

"I'm not a demon. And I can help you in keeping Azazel out of your bundle of joy. I don't just mean down the road. I mean I can stop him from getting in there in the first place."

Despite her better judgment, Rachel found herself sinking back into the chair. "How?"

"Just a little spell. It wouldn't activate until he tried to get in. Up until that moment, he'd think everything was fine and it was all going to plan." He opened his arms, saying, "I'm just warning you. I don't know exactly what he's planning on doing with you. He might let you be, he might take you somewhere. But whatever he does, when he tries to jump into your little darling, he'll find himself barred and, well. SOL."

Her heart pounded. The baby, safe. No demon. "You said he'd try to jump into her at the end, right? Does that mean, he'll be killed if he doesn't get in?"

"Oh, yeah. He'll be dead. If we do this right."

"How do we…"

He shook his head. "Oh, I'm not involved with this any more than what I'm offering. I'll demon-proof your baby. The rest is up to you and your boys."

"And, in exchange for doing this, they don't kill you. We don't kill you."

He grinned. "I knew you were the smart one. Look. If I didn't have those two chuckle-heads after me, and they didn't have such a good track record, I may have been tempted to do this one for free. If it was just you. I mean, I'm a trickster. I specialize in taking down the high and mighty. The dicks that prey on the good and powerless."

"Hey."

"I said you were good. But, come on. You can't tell me this situation doesn't qualify."

That was a really good point. Even as Rachel thought it, she knew that it was a rationalization. This was a trickster. A supernatural creature. A killer. There was absolutely no reason to trust him. To take what he was saying at face value. To believe him.

And yet….

Oh, God, she wanted to. She wanted to believe him. And she did. Not all that deep down, she believe, absolutely, that he was genuine in his offer.

Worse, she wanted to take him up on it.

Her palms were slick. She rubbed them over her belly. "So. When you say demon-proof, do you mean just from Azazel, or…"

"Trust me, sweetie-pie, by the time I'm done, nothing evil is getting into that baby. Or you." He tilted his head. "I saw that your boys had super special anti-possession tattoos. Clever."

"You saw that?"

He rolled his eyes. "I see all. Anyway, I'm sure you're planning on running out and getting one as soon as you pop. But it won't be enough."

"Why not?"

"You've got Azazel's name branded into your skin. It's like a backdoor. All access pass for Azazel. That's how he keeps getting in your dreams."

Her shook. She stood, the chair remarkably easy to get out of, and pushed down the waist of her jeans. "That's what this is?" She showed him the mark on her hip, the one she'd discovered after she found out she was pregnant.

The trickster kicked his feet over the arm of his chair. "Yup. That' is Azazel's sigil. Only all messed up so you can't read it. Which works for me, because I'm going to have to hide something in that mess."

"What?"

"My own symbol. It'll show up as a birthmark on your little girl, too, but it won't hurt her. Or you. Just make you inaccessible." He dropped his feet and leaned forward. "It's a good deal. It solves both our problems. All you have to do is say yes."

Rachel sank back into her chair, squeezing her eyes shut. Her heart pounded. Her head spun. This went against everything she'd ever been taught. Everything she ever knew. Supernatural creatures couldn't be trusted. They lied.

But. It was a way out. Or, at any rate, it couldn't be any worse than what had happened to her. He wasn't asking for sex. He wasn't even asking for the baby. Just that they walked away and, in exchange, he was pretty much handing Azazel's death. Sure, Dean and Sam would probably have to do all the work, but it was a guarantee that he'd leave them alone after they killed him.

She licked her lips. Opened her eyes and met the trickster's eyes. "Okay," she said. "I'll do it."

He smiled.


	23. Chapter 23

Dean waited until the door closed behind Rachel before he dropped the pillow and sat up. "So. A trickster. How do we…" He broke off when the door opened again and Rachel reappeared. "What happened? You forget something?"

Rachel froze in the doorway. Cocked her head. "What…"

That one word, combined with her confused expression sent alarm bells off in his head. A quick glance at Sam and Bobby showed they had similar alarms.

Sam jumped up from the table. "Here. Have a seat." He took her by the arm and led her to the empty seat.

"I'm fine," she said. She sat, grunting softly as she lowered herself. "How long have I been gone?"

"Two seconds," Dean answered. He leaned against the table directly in front of her. "You walked out and walked back in. What happened?"

"I'm fine." She took his hand and squeezed it. "Really, I'm fine. I want all you to get that and calm down. Okay?"

"Then what happened?"

"What happened is…" She hesitated. Rubbed her stomach with her free hand.

"What?"

"Don't freak out. None of you."

"This isn't helping."

She nodded. Closed her eyes. "I've been gone over an hour. The trickster took me when I went out. I can only assume he returned me to the exact moment I left because he thought it'd be funny."

Dean gapes at her a moment before saying, "Did you just say that the trickster kidnapped you?"

"He didn't kidnap me. He stopped me from sitting on the stairs by taking me to what I assume was his house."

"Why were you going to sit on the stairs?" asked Sam, which, to Dean, seemed like the least important question to ask.

"I was walking, and I felt that tingle I get when Azazel's nearby. Only it was a gazillion times more powerful." She looked past Dean. "This isn't a trickster, Bobby. He's too powerful. And no way would a pagan god feel like a demon. He's something else."

"What is he?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. He said trickster. I told him he was lying."

"He had you held captive and you told him he was a liar?" Dean shouted. "I thought you were supposed to be smart!"

She squeezed his hand. "I'm fine, Dean. He wasn't going to hurt me. He wanted to make a deal."

"You made a deal with a pagan god?" It was Bobby's turn to shout.

"It wasn't like that. Bobby, we weren't going to be able to kill him. Going against whatever he is armed with trickster lore? We'd be lucky if he let us go alive." She winced. "But he's not, you know, malevolent. Not towards people who don't deserve it. You said it, Dean. The guys he killed were dicks. They got what was coming to them." She shrugged. "He wasn't going to hurt me."

Bobby swore. "You knew. You knew it was a trickster and you came down here planning this."

Dean raised his eyebrows at Rachel.

She closed her eyes.

"I can't believe you," he said. He pushed away from the table, covering his face. "You… you came here to make a deal with it."

"It wasn't like that, I swear. Don't… just listen to me, please."

"Fine." Dean dropped onto the bed. Gestured with his hands. "Talk."

Rachel nodded. Swallowed and rubbed her hand in circles over her stomach. "I played a hunch. The alien thing was just too… too silly, which got me thinking trickster. The alligators in the sewers pretty much cemented it. I wanted to make sure. I was coming out here to help you, I swear, but in the back of my mind, I couldn't help thinking that… well. Tricksters prey on the high and mighty. Who's higher and mightier than Azazel right now?"

"But since when do pagan gods try to bring demons down?" Sam asked, voice almost too rational and calm.

"I know. I wasn't counting on anything. I was hoping. And then he invited me to talk."

"When did that happen?" Dean got out through clenched teeth.

"When I was dozing be… well. Just now, I guess. While you were explaining everything, he came into my dream and told me to come talk to him."

"And you did."

"Yeah, Bobby, I did." She ran her fingers through her hair. "It was reckless, it was stupid, but I am desperate." Her voice cracked. "I needed to know what Azazel wanted with me. With her. I thought, you know. Maybe a pagan god could figure it out."

"Did he?"

"Yeah." She wiped away a tear, the wrapped both arms around her stomach. "She's human. And Azazel's planning on hiding in her if someone kills him."

There were so many things said in those few sentences. So many important things, and Dean heard Bobby and Sam making noises like they were going say something, but Dean was stuck on one thing. It brought him off the bed, stumbling a few steps towards Rachel. "Her?"

Rachel blinked, a couple tears falling from her eyes. She nodded, a beautiful smile breaking over her face. "Yeah. Her. You're going to have your little girl."

Dean knelt next to her. Pressed a kiss against her stomach, feeling his baby girl kicking. "She's not a demon," he whispered. "You sure?"

"Yeah." She ran her fingers over his hair. "The trickster said that she's human. Fully. Just, like, sort of coated with demon so when he gets in, no one will really know. So he can hide."

"Hide from what?" Sam asked.

"From the other demons. Whatever he's planning for you, when he achieves it, he's done. And he doesn't like that, so I'm his double cross. Or, rather, my daughter is."

"Our daughter," Dean reminded her, resting the side of his face against her stomach. Then he realized what she said and turned his head to hide his grin. From the beginning, Rachel had referred to the baby as "it" or "the little demon". An hour with the trickster, and all the sudden she was acknowledging it as their daughter. Dean still didn't trust this thing, exactly, but he couldn't help but be grateful.

"Yeah." She massaged his neck. "So. The trickster made it so Azazel can't get in. Can't possess the baby or me. And, in exchange, I promised we'd let him leave town. Alive."

"What did he do to you. Exactly?" Bobby asked.

Dean kissed Rachel's stomach once more, then pushed himself to his feet.

Rachel was shaking her head. "I'm not, you know, exactly sure. He didn't explain that much. Just that he'd make it so Azazel wouldn't be able to get in. That it's more powerful than the anti-possession tattoos you guys got. He wrote his name on me."

"What?"

Rachel grabbed Dean's forearms and used him to haul herself out of the chair. Then she pulled up her shirt and pushed down the waistline of her jeans. "Remember that mark that showed up after I found out I was pregnant? It was Azazel's sigil. The trickster says he hid his own under it."

Dean looked at the marking on his wife's hip. Ran his thumb over it. "So, back when this first showed up and we didn't know anything about who the demon was, we left this alone. But now we know. And he's gotta know we know, because you told Meg. He's not doing anything to you."

"So?"

"So. Let's scan this thing, get a look at it. Maybe we can figure out how to use his name or his sigil or whatever to stop him. And, at the same time, find out the name of this trickster."

"And do what? We can't kill him."

Dean shook his head. "You said that in exchange for doing this, we'd let him leave town without hurting him. You didn't say anything about what happens if we run across him in the future."

"We can't hunt him, Dean."

"I'm not saying we do. Just, if we happen to cross paths, we know exactly which trickster this is and what his weaknesses are. In case he's not so friendly to us next time."

"He has a point," Sam said.

Rachel sighed and shrugged. "Fine. But we're not going hunt him. I'm not risking this." She looked over at Bobby. "I really don't think he means to hurt me. Why would he?"

Bobby sighed. Shook his head. "It don't make me feel right about this."

"The worst he did to them was steal a computer and take the air out of some tires. We're not the trickster's enemy. Or his normal target. I think this is on the level."

He just shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

Rachel turned back to Dean. Looked up at him from under her eyelashes, looking vulnerable and unsure. "You mad at me?"

Dean bit back his instant response that, of course he isn't and she should just relax, because it's obvious that she was trying to manipulate him and that kind of pissed him off. On the other hand, he's not mad at her, exactly, because he really doesn't know what he would have done in her situation. If the trickster had pulled him in and suggested it all to him.

Well. Yeah he does. He would have told the thing to shove it up his ass, but, then, he wasn't the one with the baby inside of him. And Rachel had gone all these months thinking it was a demon, and she was about to help end the world or something. Being told she wasn't, even by a trickster, had to have been a huge relief.

A big enough relief to agree to something stupid.

All the sudden, there were tears in her eyes. She pressed her hand against her them.

He frowned. Something poked in the back of his mind. "Is this really about Dad?"

"Christ," Bobby swore. He pushed himself back from the table. Stood. He and Sam were out the door before Rachel even dropped her hands from her eyes.

"No," she said. "Maybe." She wiped her now crimson eyes. "I say yes to a lot of stupid things, I guess."

"Rachel." He sat on the bed and leaned towards her. "We have to get passed what happened with Dad. It wasn't your fault."

"I know."

"So do I." He took her hand. "You gotta stop thinking that you chose what happened with him, 'cause you didn't. Even if you made the first move, even if you felt sorry for him. Hell, even if you fell in love with him, it wasn't your choice."

She nodded. Sniffed. "But this was."

"Was it?"

"Yeah, it was. The trickster didn't force me. I didn't feel like I was in danger. He just sort of told me and then said he could help." She exhaled, a long, slow breath. "I really want this to be over. And when he told me that the baby was human, that she's normal and he could help her stay normal, it almost felt like maybe it could be."

"It's not. Not yet."

"I know. But it's a start." She squeezed his hand. "Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad."

She stared at him for a long moment. Then something washed over her face. She nodded. "Okay."

Dean kissed her. Rested their foreheads together. "Okay, so. We go home. Call your parents and your pain-in-the-ass doctor and look at that brand on your stomach. Figure out how to kill this sonofabitch. Sound good?" He ran his fingers through her hair.

Rachel relaxed against him. Pressed her face against his neck, hand over his heart. "Yeah. Sounds good."


	24. Chapter 24

“God, I’m tired,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck. The road was becoming a blur in front of him.

“We could stop,” Sam replied. He was fiddling with his phone, like he had been for hours. Texting Nathan back and forth, probably, or checking his e-mail.

“We’re about ten hours out. I want to get home.”

Sam snickered. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

Dean bit back a sigh, too tired to even engage with Sam. They’d been on the road for weeks going on hunt after hunt. When they’d hit a wall after the Trickster, unable to decipher either his or Azazel’s name in the brand on Rachel’s stomach, Sam had gotten restless. Antsy. He’d been all but climbing the wall in that stupid pool house, setting Rachel on edge until she kicked him out.

“Go! Hunt!” she’d said. “Get out of here before I kill him.”

It’d taken some arguing and some bargaining, but Dean had finally agreed to go. Just until Sam calmed down. Just until they got closer to the due date. 

Just until whatever was going to happen was eminent and not months away. 

Just until Rachel’s due date. 

“I need food,” he said on seeing a diner up the road. “That’ll do it.”

“I still say we pull off and get some sleep. We can do the ten hours tomorrow.” Finally, finally, Sam put his phone away. “There’s no reason to kill ourselves.”

Dean’s hands tighten on the wheel. He’d never believe Mr. I’m-so-sensitive himself could be so dense. “And what if we pull off the road right now, get eight hours of shut eye, only to have Rachel go into labor while we’re out? I am not missing my kid’s birth.”

Silence. Then, “She’s not due for another week. And I’ve heard that labor can be long for a first time birth.”

He pulled into the diner and parked the car. “I’m not taking the risk. Now, go get us some food. And don’t forget the extra onions this time.”

Sam groaned. “Dude, I’m the one who has to ride with you and your extra onions.” 

Dean grinned at him.

“Fine.” He opened the car door. “Oh, and I will be so glad when you get to stop playing the pregnant wife card. You have no idea how happy.”

“Yeah, because the ‘I’ve got an infant at home card’ won’t be effective at all. Get me some pie, too.”

Sam slammed the door shut and stalked away, muttering to himself.

“I want pie!” he shouted as he pulled his phone out. He dialed Rachel.

“I’m not in labor yet, Dean,” she answered.

“You holding your legs together like I told you to?”

She laughed. “You are such an idiot. Why did I marry you?”

“Because my idiot brother drew up some paperwork saying we were married and you were idiot enough to go along with it.”

She laughed again. “Yeah. Well. Like attracts like and all.” She sighed. “Where are you?”

“Close. We’re pushing through the night and should be there by morning.”

“You don’t need to rush. I’m fine here. Not sleeping so much, but Dr. Fletcher says that’s normal. My mom said it’s normal. Nathan didn’t let her sleep for the last two months.”

“Nathan never lets anyone sleep, so she should have taken that as a warning. Your grandparents still there?”

“Yeah. They’re going to stay until the baby’s born, so you’ll have to face him again.”

“Your grandfather’s an asshole that hates me, but I expected everyone in your family to be like that. I can handle one man. As long as I can stay in the pool house.”

“Of course.” She groaned. “God, I’ll be so glad when all this is over. I’ve got this… knot of anxiety in my chest all the time. I’m scared.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fist in his lap. “I know. I am, too. But we’ll get through this. I…” He broke off as the radio crackled, spitting static.

“Dean?”

“Sorry, sweetheart. The radio….” The phone buzzed loudly as the radio flared up again, then died. “Rachel? Rach!” He pulled the phone from his ear to find it was dead, too.

Adrenaline rushed through him. He looked up to find everyone had disappeared from the diner. No Sam. 

No Sam.

***

“Dean?” Rachel pulled the phone from her ear. 

They’d been disconnected.

Frowning, she dialed him. It went straight to voice mail. “Dean, it’s me. Did you forget to charge your phone again? Call me from Sam’s phone so I know you’re okay. Yeah, I know, but I’m pregnant, and I’m allowed to be paranoid right now. Love you.” She hung up.

The baby kicked her. 

“Oh, stop.” She rubbed her stomach before struggling to climb out of the chair. Dean’s call had made her restless. She needed to move. She needed air.

Walking to the front door, she slipped one of Dean’s sweatshirts on before stepping outside. The air was cool and crisp against her face. She tilted her head back, eyes shutting, and took a deep breath.

Her stomach contracted. Well. Not stomach. But not hard. She’d been getting contractions on and off all day, never very hard and not regular at all. The baby had dropped, Dr. Fletcher had told her, but since it was her first time, she could still be some ways away. And the contractions could be early labor or they weren’t.

Sometimes, Rachel really questioned whether or not this man knew anything. If she ever did this again, she was not letting him be her doctor.

She tried Dean again. Still no answer.

“That man,” she said wryly. She smiled and shook her head. 

“Men are the worst, aren’t they?”

Rachel bit back a scream. She jumped, arms wrapping around her stomach. 

Azazel was standing just behind her, grinning. “Hello, Princess.”

“No.”

His grinned widened. “Well. I think it’s about nine months too late for that. We got places to be, gates to bust open, and babies to be born.”

She tried to pull away, but she was too slow, and he was too fast. He touched her arm and everything disappeared.

***

As soon as his cell phone gained power again, Dean called Rachel. His call was transferred directly to voice mail.

“Rach, Sam’s gone. He walked into a diner to get us some food and now everyone there is dead, there’s sulfur all over the place, and Sam’s gone. I’m thinking Azazel’s making his move. Stay with your parents. Call Nathan and Jo, circle the wagons. And call me. I’m going to see if I can get hold of Bobby. Call me.”

He hung up and stared at the wall, thinking. He didn’t like this. He never should have left Rachel. He shouldn’t have let Sam out on the road. This close, he and Rachel should have been living inside a devil’s trap or something, protected. Safe.

He picked up his phone again and dialed Nathan. He wasn’t as surprised to get his voice mail. “Nate, it’s Dean. Sam’s gone and I can’t get hold of Rachel. Call her, call me. You and Jo get to her. Now.”

When Jo’s phone went to voice mail, he swore. “Get to Rachel. Call me.” Then he called Bobby.

“Singer.”

“Thank God. I’ve been getting nothing but voice mail. We’ve got a problem, Bobby.” He quickly outlined the situation.

“Crap. What do you need from me?” Bobby asked.

“I don’t know. Anything you have that might help find Sam. Like spikes in demonic activity or something.”

“Where are you?”

“Athens, Ohio. I’m closer to Rachel, but… God, Bobby, I don’t know what to do.”

Bobby sighed harshly. “Okay, stay put. I’ll come to you. You keep trying Rachel. If you need to get to her, call me.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t panic. Rachel’s strong, and Sam can hold his own. They’ll be fine.”

Dean nodded. “Right. Right. Okay.”

“Sit tight.” He hung up.

He let out a long, slow breath and sat on the bed. Rachel would be fine. She was just… busy. Or something. And Sam would kick Azazel’s ass. Everything would be fine.

***

She was a cliché. A living, breathing, panting, Lamaze breathing cliché. Sitting on a mattress in a windowless room, clutching the back of her thighs as she tried to breathe through the pain of a contraction. Everything hurt. Her bangs were plastered to her forehead with sweat and she was about ready to chew suddenly too heavy hair off her head.

And she was terrified. Not just because she was in labor and all alone. Not just because she had no idea she’d actually been here. And not just because she had no idea if Dean was looking for her.

She was afraid because this was her life. Because, somehow, she wasn’t really surprised she was here. Ever since they’d found out she was pregnant, Dean and the rest had acted like she was going to be giving birth in a hospital. Dean had said over and over again that there was no way he was missing the birth. And, while the genre-savvy part of her had wanted to hit him over the head for daring to put that out there, she’d just gone along with it. She’d acted like there was even the slightest chance that this completely abnormal pregnancy would have a normal ending.

And, yet, here she was. Alone, without Dean, without a doctor. And, worst of all, without drugs.

The contraction eased. She let out a long breath and leaned back against the wall, shutting her eyes.

The door opened.

“Things progressing along, princess?” Azazel shut the door behind him and crossed the room to her. “You got to the point where you’re gonna shout out that you hate me, and I got you into this, and I’m never going to touch you again?”

“Pretty sure I said all that nine months ago,” she replied wearily.

He sat on the mattress, looking at her. “Ah, yes, but you also moaned so prettily to for me. Said yes and please and more.”

“Pretty sure I said that to John. Not you. Never you.”

“You really think I wasn’t there the whole time?”

“It still wasn’t to you.” Licked her lips, feeling how dry they were, how sticky her mouth was. “So, what’s your endgame, anyway? What’s all this for?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really? You think I’m just going to lay out my master plan like I’m some Bond villain? I’m not stupid.”

It took everything she had not to blurt out what she already knew. About him using the baby as a shelter. About him being irrelevant after whatever he was planning finished.

“I’ve been in suspense nine months,” she said instead. “I had to try.” She licked her lips again. “I need water.”

“Is that a request?”

“You want me to die before I get this thing out of me?” She glared at him. “I don’t have a watch, but my contractions are far apart. They’re not regular. I’m not close. What I am is hot and thirsty. I need water.”

His grin widened. “I’m still not hearing a question, princess.”

She closed her eyes. Sighed. “Please.”

He snapped his fingers and handed her a glass of water.

She tried not to display how grateful she was when she took it. Gulped it down greedily. She knew she should drink slowly, that she might just throw it all up, but she felt fine. Hot and scared, but not sick. “Am I really going to have to do this all on my own?”

“Of course not.”

“I’m not letting a demon touch me.”

He placed his hand on her knee.

She narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw.

“You know what I’ve loved the most about our little encounters, princess? It’s the way your little chin wrinkles when you’re clenching your jaw at me.” He reached out and took her chin in his hand, fingers curled under it, thumb brushing the front. “It’s adorable.” He leaned closer. Kissed her chin, then her lips before sitting back. “But, no. I’m going to let you have a couple of humans to help you out.”

“Dean and Sam?”

He let out a bark of laughter. “I’ll miss your sense of humor.” Azazel stood. “Let’s go, little girl. We got places to be.” He took her hand and tugged.

“What…”

The world compressed around her in a black mass before coalescing. She was on her feet, leaning against Azazel. Trees surrounded them, dirt stung her nose, and the sun beat on her skin hazily.

“Where are we?” she gasped.

“Rachel!”

“Jo! Nathan!” 

Azazel held her fast, not letting her cross the distance to where Jo and Nathan were being held by a cadre of demons. “Not so fast.”

“Let her go!” Nathan kicked at his captor, struggling.

“Or what, no eyes? You’ll run around and try to find me for an hour or two?” Azazel sneered. “Just listen. She’s fine. But she’s in labor.”

“Oh, crap,” Jo swore.

“I’m fine,” Rachel assured her. 

“For now,” Azazel said. “It’s going to get a whole lot worse soon.”

She glared at him. “You are not helping.”

“I don’t particularly care to help. Now, listen. All three of you. You have a car.”

She did a double take on looking where he was pointing. “Is that my car? Did you steal my car?”

“I thought having something familiar might help you feel more comfortable. Now listen, or you’ll be dropping this baby right here with my help.”

Rachel shivered and wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I’m listening.”

“The three of you drive fifty miles straight down this road. Do not turn off the road. Do not pass go. You go straight. I’ve got demons all over these woods, watching, and believe me, if you deviate so much as one mile, what happened at that cabin, princess? And your eyes, Nate? Will seem like a night at the opera compared to what I’ll do to you.”

“I don’t like opera. The high notes make me cringe,” Nathan said.

Azazel cocked an eyebrow.

“Okay, we get it!” Rachel interrupted. “Keep going straight. What’s at the end of the road?”

“A cemetery. You go there and find a nice, quiet little crypt to hole up in. You’ll stay there until it’s time.”

“Time for what?” asked Jo.

He didn’t look at her, simply stared down at Rachel.

“Why?” she asked. “What’s the point?”

His smile deepened. “The point is to get all the pieces into place for the final show. What more point do I need?”

“Why do we have to drive there?” asked Nathan. “Why don’t you take us there yourself?”

“Because what’s a birth without a little bit of drama?”

Rachel laughed. It sounded hysterical even to her ears.

“Neither of us knows how to deliver a baby. And Nathan’s blind.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I printed out some direction for you.” Azazel held out a stack of computer paper to Jo. “Basically, it says don’t drop the baby.”

Jo pulled away from the demon holding her. Snatched the papers from him. “What about supplies? Water and blankets and stuff?”

“All in the car. Everything you need to deliver one baby girl.”

Rachel grunted as a contraction hit. She grimaced and pressed against her stomach, panting.

“Rachel?” Jo was at her side, rubbing her back. “Just breathe. You know, hee hee, ho,” she demonstrated. 

“Nathan!” She reached out for him, swinging her hand wildly until his hand slipped into hers. 

“I got you. Don’t panic.”

“I forgot my towel.”

Finally, the contraction ended. Her body relaxed and she could open her eyes.

Azazel was looking at her. “Get in the car, princess, and go. Otherwise, I’ll just rip her out right now.”

She squeezed Nathan’s hand. “We’re going. Come on.” She caught Jo’s hand an pulled both her and Nathan to the car. “Jo, you drive?”

“I need the keys.”

“They’re already inside. The car is gassed up and ready to go.”

Jo made a face then opened the door and slid inside.

Rachel opened the back door. “You first, Nathan.” She helped him climb inside and was about to follow when Azazel grabbed her. 

He put his hands on her face, framing it. Leaned down until their foreheads were pressed together. “It’s been fun, princess. Be seeing you.” He kissed her roughly and then pushed her into the car, slamming the door behind her.

“Rachel?”

“Just go, Jo. Drive.”

Jo met her gaze in the mirror. And, finally, they were going.

“They still there?” Nathan asked.

Rachel looked out the back window. 

Azazel and the other demons were there, watching them. 

“Yeah, they’re there. What’s going on? Why aren’t they following us?”

“Why are they making us drive at all?” said Nathan. “Why not just take us where they want us? They brought us this far.”

“How did you get here?”

“I was at work.”

“I was in my room, reading. With Ginger. And Dean called.”

She nodded. “I was on the phone with him. But the power cut out. I thought maybe he’d forgotten to charge his battery again, but… Did he say anything?”

Nathan shook his head. “I went to answer it when I was suddenly here.”

“What do we do?” Jo looked back at Rachel, eyebrows raised.

She could feel another contraction building. Putting her hand on her stomach, she took deep breaths, steeling herself. “Just keep going. Get to the cemetery. Dean and Sam will find us.”

“And if they don’t?”

The contraction hit. She didn’t answer.

***  
He’d been too late. One minute earlier. If he’d been even seconds faster, if he’d been better, Sammy would still be alive. Dean would have been able to save him.

But he hadn’t. Hadn’t been fast enough, strong enough, good enough. 

And Sam was dead.

He and Bobby had brought Sam’s body into one of the abandoned houses. He was laid out, eyes closed. He could have been sleeping. 

He wasn’t sleeping.

His phone rang.

He thought about not answering. But then he realized he hadn’t talked to Rachel since his phone died on her. 

“Rachel?”

“Is this Dean Winchester?”

His stomach did a nose dive at the official clip of the unfamiliar voice. “Yeah.”

“Mr. Winchester, this is Detective King of the Hartford police department. Sir, are you the husband of Rachel Adams Winchester.”

“Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”

There was a beat of silence. “Sir, we need you to come in. There’s been an incident, and…”

“I’m out…” His voice cracked. He swallowed. “I’m out of the state. What happened?”

Another hesitation. “Mr. Winchester, at approximately ten thirty last night, there was an explosion at the Adams residence. Fire department thinks it was probably a gas leak.”

“Were there… were there any survivors?”

“We haven’t found any. Frankly it doesn’t seem likely.”

He couldn’t catch his breath. He couldn’t breathe. The world spun out of control around him. He was going to be sick. “The pool house. She was staying at the pool house.”

“The pool house is relatively intact, but there’s no evidence… We need you to come in.”

“Yeah.” He could feel the tears sliding down his face, hot and fast. He wiped them away. “I have… something to… but I’ll come…” He wiped his eyes again. “What about Nathan?”

The detective sighed. “Nathan Adams has disappeared. He left his dog behind. Mr. Winchester, do you know of anyone who might be targeting the Adams family?”

Dean swallowed the hysterical laughter that wanted to break out of him. He took a few breaths and said, “They were historians. Scholars. I can’t imagine anyone…” He shook his head. “I’ll be there as soon.” He hung up. Lowered his head to the bed next to Sam’s body. 

He couldn’t breathe. There was too much pain. It tore through. Hot and hard and tearing. Claws ripped him from the inside out and he couldn’t… couldn’t…

“Dean? Dean!” Bobby pulled him up from the bed. Shook him. “Dean, talk to me. I heard you phone. What happened?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. Shook his head. His tongue felt heavy and dead in his mouth.

Bobby shook him again. “Talk!”

“Rachel,” he bit out. He forced a breath. “She’s… There was an explosion. Demons blew the house.”

“What?” Bobby sat on a rickety table across from Dean. 

“A detective just called. He said…” His voice died.

Bobby sat back and rubbed underneath the brim of his hat with his thumb. He shook his head. “Dean… I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.”

“But that just doesn’t make any sense.

“What?”

“Why would the demon go through all this trouble just to kill Rachel at the eleventh hour? It don’t make sense. And if you was in your right mind, you might see it.”

He blinked at Bobby. “Wait, what?”

“You don’t know for sure that call was real, Dean. Azazel wanted the baby. The Trickster even said it, as much as you can trust a trickster. He wouldn’t go killing Rachel before he got it.”

“What if he…”

“What if he took her and blew the house without her in it? What if he’s trying to make sure you don’t get your act together and go kick his ass?”

“With what? I don’t have the Colt.”

“Well, sitting here on your ass ain’t going to get it back, boy,” Bobby snapped. “Something big is going down. End of the world big. And your wife and kid are right in the middle of it. They need your help. I need your help.”

“What about Sam?”

“Sam’s dead.”

“Goddamit, Bobby…”

“Sam is dead, Dean,” he shouted. “I’m sorry. I really am. I wish we’d been faster, too, but we weren’t and he’s gone. We have to deal with that and move on.”

Dean shook his head. “No.”

Bobby looked like Dean had punched him. “No? What, you’re going sit here until he rots? Lug him around in your car? What, Dean?”

Anguish, not quite as cutting as before, but near as deep, went through Dean again. He slumped back, exhausted. “I don’t know. I don’t… But not here. We can’t leave him here.”

“Then where do you want to take him?” he asked quietly.

Dean shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I… let’s take him home, at least. Maybe keep his body until we find Rachel. And then we can…”

Bobby sighed. “You want to take him to Lawrence?” 

“No.” He met Bobby’s eyes. “No, we’ll take him to your place. We’ll take him home.”


	25. Chapter 25

_"What are you going here?" she demanded of the bulk of a man kneeling in front of her._

_Large, rough hands gently rubbed thick cream around her stuck ankle. Fingers trailed in and out of the cracks, giving a caress every time she flinched. "Looks like I'm rescuing you. Seemed like you need some help."_

_"That's not what I meant and you know it."_

_John looked up. Smiled. "I know, little girl.”_

_She swallowed. Her mouth felt sticky and her tongue still felt too big for her mouth. She picked up the bottle of Gatorade he’d brought and took another sip. “We burned your body._

_“I know. You and the boys did everything you were supposed to. But what we’re dealing with isn’t anything we’re used to. It’s more than anything I expected, anything I knew about.” He wrapped his hand around her leg just above her ankle._

_Rachel held her breath. Worked with him to pull her ankle out of the crack the troll had shoved it in._

_Rock scraped her skin, tearing at it. She swallowed a scream as her ankle came free, the pain washing over her._

_“You okay?”_

_She nodded shakily. The pain settled into a dull throb. Manageable._

_John brushed his thumb over her skin. “I have to clean up the scrapes before I wrap it up. Do you think it’s broken?”_

_“I don’t think so. Maybe a couple of the littler bones, but not the ankle.” Her ankle was swollen, the skin colored green and purple._

_He pulled a first aid kit out of the bag he’d brought and began dabbing at the scrapes._

_“Why?”_

_“Why what?”_

_“Don’t play stupid,” she snapped. “Why are you here? Why did it bring you back? Why…” Her voice faded away._

_John looked up from her ankle, meeting her eyes._

_Her breath caught in her throat and a sob closed her throat._

_He looked so… so tired. Broken, somehow. He was a man who had reached his limit, but somehow was still forcing himself to go on._

_“You know why I’m here, Rachel.”_

_Tears slid from her eyes. “You said no,” she whispered. “You said you wouldn’t. You said…”_

_“I know.” He brushed away a tear with his thumb, cupping her face with his hand. “I know what I said, and I tried so, so hard not to wind up here. But you didn’t tell me…” He broke off, eyes snapping shut, and shook his head sharply. “I didn’t know what else to do.”_

_“Say no.”_

_John just shook his head, looking defeated and sad._

_Terror shot through her. She pushed herself away from him, crawling backwards, further into the cave._

_“Rachel.”_

_“Stay away from me.” Her hand landed on a rock. She lobbed it at him, missing, but he flinched and stopped advancing on her._

_“What are you going to do, Rachel? You can’t stay here.”_

_“Watch me!”_

_He rubbed his face. “Be reasonable.”_

_“Oh, yeah. Letting you rape me is totally reasonable.” She found another rock. Threw it._

_It hit John on the leg and bounced away. “If there was any other choice…”_

_“How about saying no?”_

_“I couldn’t let you die!” he shouted. “Not now. Dean’s already lost too much, I didn’t want him to lose you, too.”_

_“And you thought me having a demon’s hell spawn would be better for him?”_

_John shook his head. Let out a bit of hysterical laughter and said, “It won’t kill you. You’ll be okay.”_

_“Except I’ll be stuck with a demon inside me. A… a seed growing in me that will…”_

_He strode over and crouched, bringing their heads level. “It won’t kill you. Believe me, little girl, you are made of stronger stuff than you think.”_

_It was her turn to laugh hysterically. “I don’t think so.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. And then her nose, which was dripping from the cold and the stress and the tears. “I don’t feel very strong.”_

_John hesitated, looking at her searchingly. Then, he moved toward her. Wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. “I know. But you’re going to get through this. I promise you. It’s definitely not the way you or I would have wanted it, but you’ll be fine. Trust me.”_

_She sniffed. Wiped her nose on his shirt. And, for some reason, she trusted him._

“I think we’re here.”

Rachel opened her eyes. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until Jo spoke, waking her. She lifted her head from Nathan’s shoulder, wiping the dampness from her mouth. “Are you sure?”

“Well. All the graves kind of clue me in.” The car rolled to a stop. Jo cut the engine. “This... Wow.”

“That bad?” Nathan asked.

Rachel just sighed. “Well. I guess we better find a place to settle.”

“Is there any reason you can’t just give birth here?” Nathan took her hand and squeezed it. “We’re at the cemetery.”

“Two reasons. One, Azazel said to find a crypt. Two, Dean spent a lot of time on this car. I really don’t want to leak all over it.”

Both Nathan and Jo made a face.

“All right,” Nathan conceded. “Let’s find a place to settle.”

The cemetery was old. Dying, if not dead. The grass was overgrown, but brown and toppled over under its own weigh. The few trees were bare and scrubby. Twigs and branches crunched under their feet. Rachel found herself clinging to Nathan not as much from exhaustion as fear that he’d hit a bad patch, fall, and smack his head on a crumbling gravestone.

“This is,” she started, but trailed off, shaking her head.

“Any way the two of you could remember I can’t actually see anything?” Nathan snapped.

“You know every horror movie cemetery ever?” asked Jo. “Because that’s where we are.”

“Thank you.” He stopped, head tilted. “It feels restless.”

“Haunted?” Jo asked as she continued ahead, kicking aside rocks and debris, searching.

Nathan shook his head. “There’s something powerful here,” he said, inching forward, hand out to feel for obstacles. “Big. I keep getting this image of a volcano in my head. The kind where the top hasn’t blown yet. Something is trying to get out, and it’s not good.”

“Could it be this?” Jo called.

Rachel tightened her grip in Nathan’s hand and tugged him forward. The path was relatively clear and it was easy to find Jo, who was standing next to the large… structure.

She wasn’t sure what else to call it. It didn’t look like it was a burial structure. For whatever reason, it made her think of a safe. Or maybe a prison. It was big and wide with heavy metal doors locked by a…

“That’s a devil’s trap,” she and said. She let go of Nathan’s hand and traced the gold emblem that held the doors together. 

“What’s a devil’s trap doing in an old cemetery?” asked Jo.

Nathan frowned. He pressed his hand on the door. Shuddered. “Do either of you have any idea where we are?”

Rachel and Jo exchanged glances.

“No. Why?”

Nathan stepped away from the door. He rubbed the back of his head, mussing up his hair so it stuck up in spikes. “I was doing research on that Colt. And then on Samuel Colt himself. I came across something in passing about… about a door.”

“Door to where?” Jo asked, but her voice was flat and enough dread to show she already knew.

“A door to hell.” Nathan rubbed his throat. He looked pale, sweat standing on his forehead.

“So, why didn’t Azazel just snap us here?” asked Rachel. “You’d think this place would be crawling with demons.”

“Train lines. I saw a picture and I never… but I think that’s maybe we’re in a devil’s trap. The whole area. Colt built it out of iron to keep them out. And, you know. Keep everything else in.”

She looked at Nathan, then met Jo’s eyes. Jo looked as horrified as she felt. Rachel could hear the thudding in her ears, feel her head spinning, as the realization hit.

“He’s going to open it.”

“How?” Jo said. “He can’t get in.”

“He sent us in. He’ll send others.”

“His commander.” Nathan snorted. “That was it. That’s what I figured out just before.” He touched the skin just under his eyes. “You put a bunch of power hunger megalomaniacs in an army and expect them to work together. You take one and put them in charge of things that are used to following orders. He needs a leader. Just one.”

Rachel gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “Sam. Oh, Christ.” 

Nathan’s lips were pressed together in a thin line. He looked sightlessly in Rachel’s direction.

Jo clenched her fists. “Let’s leave. Seriously let’s just go. If we’re in a devil’s trap, then we’re safe. They can’t get us. He can’t send a demon after us. I say, we get into car and drive the opposite direction we came. We get to the edge and then, I don’t. Call the for an ambulance.”

“We don’t have a phone,” Rachel said.

“Oh my God! Then we’ll get to the edge and I’ll walk until I find someone who has a phone or something.”

“Good. Let’s leave the blind guy to deliver his sister’s baby. That will end well,” Nathan said.

“Her contractions are still fifteen minutes apart. Her water hasn’t even broken!”

The moment the words left Jo’s mouth, Rachel could feel it. The pressure had been building in her lower back for a few minutes now. She’d thought it was another contraction, but something suddenly felt like it snapped in her abdomen and then…

“Oh, crap,” Jo swore, looking at the small puddle forming at Rachel’s feet.

“I vote Jo as the person you least want to be in a horror movie with,” Nathan said.

“Seconded. I’ve got uterus gunk on my feet.” She wiped them off on the grass and moved away from the puddle. Fluid was still trickling down her leg. She could feel another contraction coming on “Guys, I really need a place to sit down.”

Nathan caught her before she fell. “Jo. We need a blanket or something.”

“I thought were going to find an empty tomb or something.” She knelt, placing the backpack on the ground. There was a towel on top that she shook out onto the ground.

“There’s probably still time,” Rachel panted. As soon as she was down, she grabbed Nathan’s hands and squeezed. 

“You’re going to need to see if the baby’s crowning or anything,” Nathan said.

“Why do I have to do it?” Jo exclaimed.

“Oh, yeah, ‘let me look at my sisters vagina,’ said the blind guy! You’re going to have to deliver this baby, Jo. And we need someone to look. Look.”

Her heart was pounding so hard, she was sure it was going to burst. It filled her ears, it was all she could feel. The pressure was intense. It bordered on pain, knife sharp, but she wouldn’t cry out, she wouldn’t. So, she squeezed Nathan’s hands and leaned against him and panted while Jo pulled Rachel’s nightgown halfway up her thighs and stuck her head under it.

“I don’t see anything,” Jo said, sitting back on her heels. “I mean, I guess it looks bigger than normal, but I don’t see….”

The pressure eased. Rachel slumped back against Nathan, eyes closed. “Find me some place to move. I am not giving birth in front of the gate to hell.”

“Drink some water.” Jo put her hand on Rachel’s cheek, guiding the bottle to her lips. When Rachel had drunk enough to satisfy her, she pulled it away. “I’ll find somewhere. You relax. Everything will be okay.”

Rachel opened her eyes and smiled at Jo. She was tired. So tired, and this wasn’t even close to be over yet. “Thanks, Jo.”

Jo kissed her forehead, and then got up to search.

“Nathan.” Rachel twisted her hands in his, interlacing their fingers. “It is going to be okay, right?”

He wrapped his arms around her. Squeezed. “Of course, Rachel. It’s going to be fine.”

***  
He never would have done it if he hadn’t been standing in the window of what would have been his and Rachel’s bedroom in their new house, the bassinet for their baby girl at the foot of the bed. If Bobby hadn’t taken the road that passed the newly finished house with its freshly painted yellow and white walls, he never would have insisted on going inside. And if he hadn’t smelled the wood and wax new house smell, and seen the furniture already moved into the family room, his throat would never had closed up, forcing him to higher ground. And he wouldn’t have found himself in the bedroom, staring out the window.

And he wouldn’t have seen the crossroads. 

But he had seen that empty house and stared out of the window trying to figure out how he was going to get through this. The only thing he knew for sure was there was no way he’d get Rachel back on his own. He needed help. He needed Sam.

But Sam was gone.

So, here he was. About to do something incredibly stupid.

“Dean,” the demon purred. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Wish I could say the same.”

Her smile widened. She stepped close to Dean, way to close, and inhaled like she was smelling him. “Ah, look at you. Gone and got your family killed. Brother dead, wife gone, and little baby gone down with the ship.”

Dean lunged.

She stepped back, hands up, smile splitting her face. “Oh, come now, Dean. You summoned me. You can’t blame me for taking a moment to enjoy. It’s no less than you would do.”

“I should send you straight back to hell,” he growled, clenching his fists.

“You should. But you won’t. And I know why.”

“Yeah?”

She laughed. “Following in your Daddy’s footsteps. You wanna make a deal. Little Sammy back from the dead for, what. Your soul?”

He frowned. “You think I’d chose my brother over my wife and child?” he asked, strangely stung at the implication. Because, okay, yes, that was the plan, but only because he figured if he got Sam back, they’d work together to get Rachel. But he didn’t want some demon thinking he was a deadbeat dad who’d rather live with his brother than wife and little girl.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not stupid, Dean. You ask for Rachel back, you get her and your brother is dead. You ask for Sam, you might get it all back.” She sauntered to him, her hips swaying seductively. “Your wife, your baby, and your little brother, all back and safe. Living in that white picket dream of yours across the street. Everything you never knew you wanted.”

“Right.” Dean swallowed. Every instinct was screaming at him to smoke her. To kill her and run. Get away, because, Christ, this was two hundred different kinds of wrong.

But he didn’t know what else to do.

“Okay. So, yeah. Bring back Sam and, in ten years, you get my soul.”

“You must be joking.”

“That’s the same deal you’re giving everyone else.”

“You’re not everyone else. You’ve been at Death’s door twice. That wears on a soul. Plus, you haven’t exactly been living clean before that.” She leaned in and put her lips to his ear. “You keep you gutter soul. Sell it to a cheaper demon.”

He grabbed her before she could pull away. “Nine years.”

“Please.”

“Eight.”

She pushed him away and backed up. “You keep going, I’ll keep saying no.”

Shit. Who’d ever heard of a crossroad demon who wouldn’t deal? And what the hell was this bullshit about his soul being too tarnished? Too tarnished for what? Hell? Please.

“Okay, five years. That’s my final offer.”

“Then no deal.”

There was pain in his chest. It streaked through it, down his arm, up his throat. His legs shook and he couldn’t breathe. “I want to know my kid.”

“She’s not even yours.”

“Yes, she is.”

Something that looked almost like sympathy settled onto the demon’s face. It might have looked more genuine had her eyes not been alight with laughter. “Did knowing your mother make it any easier?”

Oh, God.

She came back into Dean’s space, her stolen body pressed up against his. “I shouldn’t do this, but, what can I say? I’ve got a blind spot for you, Dean.” She caressed his face. “I’ll give you a year. One year. You’ll get Sam back. The two of you will rush off and rescue Rachel and that precious bundle that you want so desperately. You’ll get them settled. You’ll get a year with your little girl and then, before she’s able to understand sadness and pain, you’ll be gone. You’ll spare her the memory of your death, but you’ll have her for the rest of eternity.” She smiled gently. “What do you say?”

One year. Three hundred, sixty-five days. It wasn’t enough.

But it was going to have to be. If he ever wanted to meet his daughter…

“Okay. Okay, I’ll do it.”

The demon’s eyes flashed with triumph. He tried not to feel sick as she pulled him down and brought their mouths together.

Shit, he thought. Rachel is going to kill me.

***  
“Keep pushing, Rachel. You’re doing good. Just keep pushing,” Jo said. She was holding Rachel behind the knees, pulling. 

Rachel didn’t say anything. During the contractions, she was too busy pushing and trying to breathe to point out that Jo wasn’t actually doing anything by pulling. In between contractions, she was just trying to catch her breath. She could feel bruises forming, but it seemed so far away. Unimportant.

The contraction ended. She let out a huge grunt and relaxed against Nathan, who was sitting behind her as a bolster. “Can I have water?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Jo held the bottle up to her lips and gave her a few sips.

She could feel the baby coming. Feel the weight inside her moving lower. It hurt, but not like it had when they first had found the tomb they were now crammed into. Then, she’d felt sharp, knifing pains all through her abdomen, like menstrual cramps, only a thousand times worse. She’d almost thrown up a couple times, but managed to keep everything down. 

Nathan swore the tomb wasn’t haunted, but the last thing she wanted to do was puke on someone’s grave. It was bad enough she was giving birth on one.

“Do you see anything yet?” Rachel asked, head resting on Nathan’s shoulder. 

“Well, your… all bulgy down there. According to the paper, that’s the head. We should be able to see it soon.”

Nathan laughed against Rachel’s head and stroked her forehead, pulling the sweaty strands away from where they were plastered to her skin. “How are you ever going to convince anyone you’re a big, tough hunter if you can’t even say vagina?” 

Jo glared at him. “First, I don’t think any hunter has done anything half as terrifying as this.”

“Except your mother.”

“Except my mother,” she conceded. “Second, I’m not talking about her vagina. It’s that part behind it that’s bulging, smartass.”

“Oh, you mean the perineum.”

“What now?”

“The stretch of skin behind the vagina and the rectum. The perineum.”

Jo looked flabbergasted. If Rachel had enough energy, she might laugh.

“It has a name?”

“Everything has a name, Jo. That little groove under your nose is the philtrum. The little bit of skin between your fingers is…” He broke off, jumping, at a sudden noise from outside the tomb. “Was that a gunshot?”

Three more shots follow. Then a fourth.

“Yeah,” Rachel said. “I think it was. Jo…” She was about to tell her to look outside, but another contraction hit. Her face twisted as she pushed, feeling the baby slide even lower.

Thundered clapped outside. The air around them grew thick and heavy, the smell of sulfur sharp in the air. She could hear shouting, very dimly over the roar in her ears. Shrieking and screaming of voices not of this world.

“I see the head!” Jo said. “Keep pushing.”

She bore down through the contraction, then fell back when it let go. “Where is it?”

“I can see the top of the head. When the next contraction hits, push as hard as you can, Rachel. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

There was a loud thump against the side of the tomb. The walls shook, a few of the stones that made up the walls crumbling.

“Dean!” Rachel heard Sam shout through the noise.

“Dean,” Rachel gasped. “De….” She broke off the word. Squeezed Nathan’s hands.

He adjusted his grip in hers. Held her, giving her strength.

She pushed.

“That’s it. That’s it! I see her!” Jo shouted, sounding excited. “Keep pushing Rachel.”

Her head was going to explode. Her body was going to rip in half. She couldn’t think, couldn’t hear. She pushed.

“Got her!” 

Jo pulled something from between Rachel’s legs. She grabbed the sweatshirt lying on the floor next to Rachel—Dean’s sweatshirt, the one she’d put on a lifetime ago—and wrapped the baby in it.

“Is she okay?” Rachel asked, exhausted. She couldn’t lift her head from Nathan’s chest. She was melted against him, sweaty, tired. “Is she breathing?”

The tomb filled with the baby’s wail. It started thin, weak, but gained strength until she was screaming.

Jo laughed. There were tears on her face. “Yeah. She’s fine. She’s… slimy.” She pressed the baby into Rachel’s arms.

Outside, a gunshot sounded.

Almost simultaneously, black demon smoke rushed into the tomb, filling the air. Rachel’s heart clenched and she clutched the baby to her chest, trying to protect it.

Thin arms of smoke reached for the baby. It poured through the hole, coming closer, ready to engulf her.

Millimeters from her skin, it stopped. It flattened around them, like pressing itself against an invisible wall. Black smoky fists pounded against the invisible barrier before the smoke let off a horrific shriek. Rachel watched as it moves backwards through the hole, like it’s being pulled against its will.

“What happened?” Jo gasped.

“That was Azazel,” Nathan said. “I could feel him. I…” He stiffened. “He’s dead.”

“What?” Rachel turned her head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Can’t you feel it? He just… went out. Like a horrible, demonic light.”

“No. I don’t feel anything.”

The door to the tomb is yanked off. Rachel flinched, hiding the baby against her chest. Then she gasped.

“John?”

John stood in the doorway of the tomb. He stepped inside, moved past Jo, and knelt before Rachel.

“John, I…”

He held out a hand, silencing her. Then he looked down at the bundle in her arms.

Carefully, Rachel moved the baby away from her chest, maneuvering her so John could see her.

His face softened. Tears that had already been standing in his eyes spilled over. He lay a finger on the baby’s cheek, then looked back up at Rachel. This time, he reached out and lay his palm on her cheek.

She let out a sob. Turned her head and nuzzled against his hand.

Then, he pulled it away. Stood up and disappeared in a haze of light.

Rachel looked down at the baby, who was screaming, face red. Her tears fell on the baby’s cheeks, but she was too stunned, too confused to even wipe them away.

“Rachel?”

She looked up. “Dean.”

He slid into the tomb and wrapped his arms around her. She could feel Nathan moving, hear Sam say his name. She heard Ellen and Bobby, hear Jo crying, but all she could think about was Dean. Dean, who was holding her. Dean and how warm he was, how solid he was. She shifted the baby so it wasn’t crushed between them and clutched his shirt with her free hand.

“It’s okay, Rachel. You’re safe. I got you.” He kissed her forehead, then tilted her head back to kiss her mouth.

“Where were you?” she demanded when they broke apart. She was shaking. “You were supposed to be here.”

“I know, baby. I know. But I’m here now.” He reached down and touched the baby’s nose. “You did this. All by yourself.”

She laughed, tears falling. “I had a little help.”

Dean kissed her again. Then he took the baby from her and cradled it against his chest. “Hey, little girl. I’m your daddy.” He kissed her on the head and rested his cheek on top of it. The look he gave Rachel was so full of love, she shivered. “Hey,” he said, giving her a small smile. “What do you say we blow this place?”

“That sounds good to me.”


	26. Chapter 26

“She’s beautiful,” Dean whispered, hanging his face over the baby’s, who was sound asleep in her little hospital crib. She was wrapped up in a pink blanket, little pink cap on her head, sucking on her tiny hand. She was perfect.

“She’s an infant. Infants look like baby aliens.” Rachel was sitting in bed, trying to comb out the tangles in her hair. She was dressed in a hospital gown, IV feeding liquids into her dehydrated body, and looked exhausted. Despite being tired, despite every medical authority in the hospital ordering her to sleep, she hadn’t so much as closed her eyes yet.

Except to cry when Dean had told her about her parents and Ash. She’d cried for an hour, until she was too tired to cry anymore. But she still hadn’t slept.

“She doesn’t look like an alien. She looks like you.” He reached out and lightly touched his thumb to the baby’s mouth. “She’s got that little dip in your lips. I bet she’ll have your smile.”

She snorted.

Dean forced himself to pull away from the baby before he woke her. The doctor said she was fine. That she was healthy and stable and there were no ill effects from being born outside, but Dean was still frightened. He wanted her in his arms. He wanted to make sure she was safe.

But she needed sleep. And he needed to get Rachel to sleep. So, he walked away and settled on the bed next to Rachel.

“What are we going to name her?” he asked. He took the comb from Rachel’s hand and set it aside. Then he pulled her down so she rested on his shoulder.

Rachel let out a long sigh. She relaxed against him, body becoming heavy. “I’m not sure. I didn’t let myself think of names before.”

“I never really got around to it,” he admitted. He took her hand. Stroked his fingers over her skin. “We could name her after your mom.”

“We could name her after your mom.”

He frowned. “What about… I don’t know. Something like Leia?”

“No.”

“But…”

“You name your daughter Leia, you’ll never be able to watch Return of the Jedi again. Besides. You’re not Darth Vader.”

He opened his mouth.

“Neither is John.”

He grimaced. “You’re a girl. Haven’t you had names picked out since you were a kid or something? I thought that’s what you all did.”

She pinched him.

“Ouch! Jesus, okay. Sorry.” He kissed her, then rested his head on hers again. “Well, then. What about Ashley?

Rachel gasped. She turned and buried her face against his shoulder.

He felt awful. “God, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“No,” she said with a sob. “No, it’s fine. Ashley is good. I just…” She sniffed. Wiped her eyes. “I just can’t believe… Ash. Mom. Dad. My grandparents. They’re all gone, and I just…” She broke off with a small, hurt sound.

Dean tightened his grip around her. “I know. It’s too much. But, on the other hand, Azazel’s gone. We got him. It’s over.”

“What about the ones that escaped?”

He shook his head. He could feel tears threatening, but he couldn’t let them go. He couldn’t let her know… not right now. Not so soon. After everything she’d been through, hell, everything they’d been through, they deserved to be happy. Right? Just for a little bit. Even a day. Right?

“I don’t want to worry about them. Let someone else hunt them. Okay? Can’t we just, for one night, be happy that the demon’s dead and our baby is healthy and we’re alive?” He looked down at her. Cupped her cheeks between his hands and rested his forehead against hers. “Just for one night. Please?”

Rachel sighed. She threaded her fingers through his hair. Nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. The demon’s dead. And it’s time to move on.”

“Yeah.” In the back of his mind, he could hear the sound of a clock ticking down. Counting down his final days. 

But, he pushed that aside. Because, right now, Sam was alive, his little girl was safe, and his wife was in his arms. And life was a close to being good as it was probably ever going to be.

Fin


End file.
